


On Thursdays We Wear Crimson

by Aviss



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Hand of the King Jaime, Humour, Jaime and Cersei are just too fabulous, Multi, No Twincest, Queen Regent Cersei, and jaime has zero game, brienne doesn't want to be in court, cersei gets served on the regular by oberyn and ellaria and has done wonders for her mood, demisexual Jaime, what was Selwyn thinking?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-17
Updated: 2019-10-27
Packaged: 2020-10-20 13:24:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 25,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20676116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aviss/pseuds/Aviss
Summary: "Jaime, please tell me you've done more than force the girl to fight you and insult her," Cersei said, her voice sharp and her eyes sharper. She didn't need him to reply. "Oh Seven.""What do you think I should do if I want to court her, then?" He asked knowing his sister's patience with him was at an end."I'd say be yourself," she said with a sigh, "but unfortunately you've been yourself all along and see what that got you."





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So I saw this post  
https://zoe19blink.tumblr.com/post/185121429255/the-lannister-twins-seven-hells-its-a-good
> 
> And then this happened.  
I wish I could turn off my brain sometimes, but then I'd write a lot less fic.

Cersei was bored. It was easy to see for anyone who knew her face, and there was nobody in the world who knew her face better than Jaime. It was, after all, his own face. 

And a very pretty one at that.

She pressed her lips together, casting a look at where Varys was droning on and on about whatever it was the Spider was going on about this time, something to do with Aerys's children wherever they were hiding now. Jaime didn't know and he didn't much care, he just wanted this small council meeting over so he could take Cersei aside; he needed his sister like he'd never done before, and was practically vibrating with the eagerness to get her alone. 

A whole Targaryen era later, or so it felt to him, Varys had finished his report and the Hand of the King could officially adjourn the meeting, which he promptly did, relieved it was over.

"Your Grace, if you have a moment," Oberyn Martell approached Cersei before Jaime could get there, and he had to bite on the curse that came to his lips. Cersei smiled at the Viper, shooting a warning look at Jaime.

"Of course, I always have a moment for you, my Lord." Jaime glared at her, narrowing his eyes pointedly. The last thing he needed was to stay there watching while those two flirted. "But I fear my sweet brother will expire of impatience if I don't see to what he wants right now," she added with a much-resigned tone. "Why don't you and the lovely Ellaria join me for dinner tonight and we can talk without interruption."

Oberyn's slow smile and heated look meant he agreed with the suggestion and Jaime wanted to roll his eyes. "It will be our pleasure, your Grace." He turned with one last appreciative look at Cersei, and Jaime finally was free to approach her. 

"What is it, Jaime?" She asked the moment they were alone. "I have to prepare for tonight's dinner."

He snorted. "Why bother? They're going to get you out of whatever you wear before the food is even served." They usually did, much to her delight and Jaime's chagrin when she insisted on giving him a blow by blow of the proceedings.

"If I choose the right one, they'll rip it." 

He winced, _so wasteful_. Cersei smiled smugly as if that was the best thing that could happen to the poor dress. Jaime was once again grateful for Oberyn Martell and Ellaria Sand's presence in King's Landing. And their seemingly inexhaustible carnal appetite and hunger for his sister.

It had done wonders for Cersei's mood.

Ever since Cersei had taken on the responsibility of being Queen Regent she had been too highly strung and overtired, tasked with keeping the Kingdoms running while still _mourning_ her husband and raising a young child of four to be King while pregnant with another. It had been a long and stressful year, and only the birth of Myrcella had managed to get Cersei to calm down and rest for a bit. 

The presence of the Dornish prince and his paramour in the Red Keep these past few moons had been a blessing, and not only because they had dealt with Clegane neatly and got The Crown and Dorne again on friendly terms, but because it had Cersei prancing around almost smiling openly at people who weren't her children or her brother, loose-limbed and radiating satisfaction. 

It had almost made Jaime curious enough to accept the invitation to join them Oberyn had extended to him, but he had kissed his sister once when they were both very, very young, and they had both pulled back with scrunched noses of distaste. 

"Slimy," Cersei had declared then, and Jaime had emphatically agreed. It was like being slobbered by his father's hounds minus the foul breath, and at that time he hadn't seen a reason to waste their time on that when they could be jumping from cliffs into the sea or training with swords in the yard or playing hide and seek in the many, many rooms in The Rock. They couldn't have been older than five then, but it had stayed with him as they grew up. 

Cersei grew out of her distaste for kissing, Jaime didn't. Not until now.

They were close; they would always be siblings, twins, and nobody understood them as well as they understood each other. The rumours of them being a bit closer than that had been the funniest thing they'd ever heard, and when Cersei had announced her pregnancy shortly after Robert left for the Iron Islands, Jon Arryn had accused Jaime of siring Joffrey and putting another child in her. 

They had howled with laughter, holding onto each other for a few minutes, while Jon Arryn stared mutely at them. That had stopped the rumours about them and Jon Arryn's nosing ways. They had laughed some more after Arryn had left them; just because Jaime wasn't Joffrey's father didn't mean _Robert_ was.

Robert had dismissed Jaime from the Kingsguard as soon as he took the throne, much to Tywin's delight, though he'd been offered a place in the council to appease Cersei who wanted her brother close. Tywin had been mollified on the grounds that with Jaime in court, he would meet eligible women and do his duty. He was only ten and seven at the time, and he was a man, there was no rush.

It hadn't quite worked the way Tywin wanted, by the time he died Jaime knew his father was running out of patience and was about to find him a wife himself, in spite of his promise not to after the Tully debacle, when Jaime spent the entire time he was supposed to be wooing Lysa chasing after the Blackfish, asking him about his adventures and challenging him to fights. 

Jaime sometimes wondered what would have been of them if both Robert and their father hadn't perished during Balon Greyjoy's rebellion. Tywin had been caught by surprise in their flagship returning from a trip to the Iron Bank when the Ironborn had burned their fleet, it had been a stroke of luck Greyjoy had not expected but had taken full advantage of. It had taken Jaime some time to travel to Casterly Rock upon receiving the raven and take control as the new Lord in the midst of that chaos, but when he'd done, he'd raised his banners and rode to help Robert crush the rebellion. They had succeeded, Jaime and Ned Stark leading the charge with the Westerland and Northern armies after Robert had been mortally wounded during the siege of Pike.

Upon their return from the Iron Islands with Robert's body Cersei had become Queen Regent, she had dismissed Jon Arryn on the grounds that she couldn't have a Hand that suspected her of something like he had accused her of, and pinned the Hand's brooch on Jaime. 

The past couple of years they had proven to their father, and to anyone else doubting them, that the Lannisters were more than pretty faces without Tywin. Not that they weren't the prettiest.

"Out with it," Cersei said when it looked like Jaime wasn't going to speak.

"I need your help," he said, and she just stared mutely at him, her eyebrow arching up. "There's a Lady--"

She blinked at him, and Cersei wouldn't have looked more surprised if Jaime had declared his need to go to the Citadel and become a Maester. "_A Lady_?" She asked, disbelief clear in every sound. 

"Yes."

"Not a squire or another Knight?" She insisted and Jaime sighed, sending her a poisonous look. He had told her a million times he wasn't like Renly, but she still believed only a lover of their own sex would not want to sleep with her, sibling relation or not. She also usually brought the Blackfish and Ned Stark into those arguments, for some strange reason. 

"Yes."

"Oh," Cersei said, her gobsmacked face slowly being replaced by a surprised and delighted smile. "Well, what are you waiting for?" She went to the side table and filled two goblets with wine. "Tell me everything! Who's this beautiful woman who has managed to enchant my very selective brother?"

It was Jaime's time to falter. "Uh, well, you see--"

…

"You're japing," Cersei said, her tone incredulous. "That's Lady Brienne, the Evenstar daughter, isn't it? I mean, you're positive that's a woman?"

They were standing on the King's solar overlooking the training yard where a single figure was going through some movements on her own. Even from that distance and in the dim light of the sunset it was easy to see the expertise and grace of the motions, the way there was not one superfluous or wasteful move. A normal person would have gone to the yard to speak to her in person, but a normal person wouldn't have spent the first days of their acquaintance fighting and insulting her, which Jaime had done. 

In his defence, she had been the one to insult him first when they met. 

Jaime had been taking a stroll around the training yard, wondering whether he had time for a sparring match before the next council meeting, and whether there was some worthy opponent there, when he had seen a knight hacking away at a practice dummy with the strong and precise movements that denoted a well-trained person. He had stopped to watch, wondering if they would be good enough for a spar, and heard the snickers coming from some of the other knights in the yard. 

"Do you think she has a cock?" one of them had asked, much to is witless friend's delight. "She doesn't have any teats, she might as well."

Jaime had seen how the knight's shoulders got tense and had realized then it was no knight, but a woman with a sword. They had been talking about her. Jaime did a double-take; she was taller and broader than even he was, her hair was shorter and lighter, pale blond curling gently around a very thick neck, and she was wearing male garments that showed no feminine shape at all. 

"I don't think there's a knight brave enough here to find out what she has between her legs," had said the other man, and they snickered together.

"Or to talk to her face, apparently. Smart that, she can probably beat you," Jaime had said, approaching the sad excuses for knights. He could recognize them now, some sort of Baratheon bannermen, the kind that ran around with Renly like puppies yapping at his heels but weren't pretty enough to do more than that. Jaime had seen them in the yard before, they were mediocre at best, someone who moved as she did would have them on their knees in a few moves.

The knights had turned to him, mouths already shaping some retort. They had seen Jaime then, standing with his hand on the pommel of his sword and an arched eyebrow, and decided that discretion was the best part of courage and had left the yard grumbling. 

The woman had turned then, an expression of what could have been gratitude on her face melting into blankness when she saw him. He had seen her mouth shaping a word, one that was barely spoken aloud, and never to his face. _Kingslayer_. Even with Robert dead he never got rid of that name. 

Jaime narrowed his eyes at her, who was this girl? She had a broad face with coarse features, a nose which had been broken at least once and more than probably twice, big crooked teeth behind a full-lipped wide mouth and more freckles on her face than stars in the night sky. Her eyes were extraordinary, though. Not just beautiful, but the prettiest ones he'd ever seen. They were a hue of blue Jaime hadn't seen before, but her azure tunic complimented them. He had seen the quartered azure and pink sigil sewn to the tunic and recognized the house. Tarth, Baratheon bannermen as well. He had remembered that the Evenstar had arrived in court two days ago, and presented his daughter, but Jaime very rarely bothered with courtiers, he much preferred to spend time in the yard when he wasn't in a council session.

They had stared at each other for a moment too long, then she had remembered her courtesies and did something between a bow and a curtsy which had Jaime's mouth ticking up. "Gods, you're big. No wonder you can't decide if you're man or woman," he had said, lashing out the way he was used to. 

She had blushed a blotchy pink that made her, if possible, more homely, her astonishing eyes narrowing at him. 

"_Lord Lannister_," she had said, voice cold, her hand clenched around her practice sword. "If you'll excuse me, I have somewhere to be." 

She had turned to go, and normally Jaime would have let her, but he had been bored and there hadn't been anyone else in the yard. Also, this was the first woman who was eager to be rid of his presence; usually they threw themselves at his feet, either because of his looks, because he was the Lord of Lannister or because he was the Hand of a King. Those were all very compelling reasons for ambitious maidens and not maidens alike. "Wait," he said, "I'm bored and I've never fought against a woman. Spar with me."

She had frozen, her shoulders lifting up until they had almost covered her ears. "I'm sorry, My Lord, but I had just finished."

"You're as stubborn as you're ugly," he had muttered, annoyed, glad to see the blush covering her neck. It was the first time anyone had refused Jaime's invitation to fight, an honour he didn't bestow on many people. "You have just arrived from Tarth, have you not? You don't want to offend the Hand of the King when you're just new to the court, do you?"

She had stopped then, shoulders coming down, her spine straightening, and slowly turned around. Her eyes, which had been impressive before, were now even better sparkling with fury. She had kept her tone calm, though. "I wouldn't want to offend My Lord Hand by beating him in a fight," she said. "I'm just a woman, after all."

"That's if they think you're a woman."Jaime had smiled. She had spirit. "You won't offend me." There was no way she'd win against him, he was one of the best swordsmen in Westeros, if not the best. "_I swear_."

"_And you always keep your oaths_," she had said in an undertone, and it had been clear it wasn't supposed to be said out loud. Her eyes had widened, but she had not apologized or retracted it. 

Jaime had clenched his teeth and grabbed one of the practice swords which had been left in the yard. She definitely had spine, though it was foolish to insult Jaime like that. People didn't dare even whisper about Aerys where he, or Cersei, could hear. Jaime knew some people still called him Kingslayer, but nobody was brave or stupid enough to do it to his face. Nobody but this ugly woman who had even dared suggest she'd beat him in a fight. "My Lady, I think this is our song. _Shall we dance_?"

"And then what?" Cersei's voice took him out of his recollections, in the yard Brienne had finished training and was looking around, almost as if she was expecting someone to appear. Jaime had been going to the yard to challenge her every day since that day, and every day she had reluctantly faced him. 

Every day but today, because last night he had a dream about her and today he'd had a very uncomfortable epiphany. 

"We fought, and she's good. She hasn't beaten me yet, but she might, one day." And not even that far in the future if she kept training. He had a wide smile on his face thinking about it, and how much he'd love being the one to train her, not just spar with her.

"Jaime, please tell me you've done more than force the girl to fight you and insult her," Cersei said, her voice sharp and her eyes sharper. She didn't need him to reply. "_Oh Seven_."

"What do you think I should do if I want to court her, then?" He asked knowing his sister's patience with him was at an end. Lucky she had plans already for tonight, he'd had to thank Oberyn if they managed to relax her after this.

"I'd say be yourself," she said with a sigh, "but unfortunately you've been yourself all along and see what that got you." She fixed him with a stern look. "I'll take care of it, or we're likely to end up with one of Tyrion's children as the future Lord Lannister." 

"That wouldn't be so bad," Jaime said and she glared at him. 

Tyrion had disappeared a few years ago only to reappear once Tywin was dead with a wife and two small children in tow. Cersei had not met Tysha or their children, but already hated them because they were Tyrion's and she was a commoner. Jaime had always known where Tyrion was, and it had been him keeping him hidden from Tywin when he realized his brother had married the crofter's daughter he rescued, something he had no intention to ever tell Cersei.

Cersei knocked back her goblet of wine. "Don't approach her until I've spoken to her." She looked at the yard again and sighed. "The things I do for this family."

She left, and Jaime stood watching the yard, where Lady Brienne stayed for a few more minutes before leaving as well. 

...


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, I wasn't expecting such a response from the first chapter, thanks so much to all of you! I was hoping to keep it light, however, dealing with Brienne's self-esteem issues makes it harder. Should be back to silliness next chapter.

Brienne of Tarth didn't want to be in King's Landing. She wanted to be back home, in Tarth, where the people still stared when they saw her but at least they were used to her and very rarely mocked her openly anymore. 

Here, in King's Landing and in court, people had no such qualms. She could feel countless eyes on her since the day she had arrived a fortnight before. Her father had somehow taken leave of his senses and decided that the court was the place where Brienne would meet her future husband, because three failed betrothals had not convinced Selwyn Tarth that she was utterly unmarriable.

On the day of their arrival in court, Selwyn had asked her to don one of her dresses, the new ones he had ordered for her and looked as bad as any of the old ones did, so she could be presented to the King as the Lady she was supposed to be. Brienne would have rather presented herself in a tunic and breeches, but her father was already indulgent enough; it was better to present an ugly daughter than a wilful one, or so Septa Roelle had told her before they departed from Tarth. 

She needed not have bothered with the ill-fitting and uncomfortable gown; the King was a boy of barely six summers and was more interested in playing with his tiny sister than looking at the courtiers, and the Queen Regent had just looked at them with a distracted smile, looking beautiful and remote while she spoke with some of the members of the King's council. Her twin brother, the Hand of the King, was nowhere to be seen. Brienne would have been offended by their lack of attention if she hadn't been so grateful for it, making her escape as soon as the Queen's eyes had turned back to Oberyn Martell. Her father had found a few Lords and Ladies of his acquaintance he hadn't seen in quite some time and had left her to her own devices, much to Brienne's relief.

That first day she had tried to socialize, keeping to the edges of groups of people and trying to be as inconspicuous as possible, no small feat when she was possibly the tallest person around and more than likely the ugliest. She had been able to endure the poisonous comments disguised as courtesies, the giggles and pointing fingers, for no more than an hour before she had needed to retire, the urge to hide in her room winning out. 

The following day she had just skipped the court, going straight to the yard to watch the knights in training. Unfortunately there she had been subjected to more of the same, the knights and some of the ladies had thought she was just another spectator hoping to catch the eye of a knight and were scornful and mocking.

"He comes here occasionally," Brienne had heard on of the Westerlands Ladies say to her companions, the group excitedly gathered by the yard. "Maybe we'll get lucky and see him today."

She was aware they had been talking about Lord Lannister, the Hand of the King and twin of the Queen. He was said to be as beautiful as his sister, and the best swordsman in the realm, and yet Brienne had no desire to meet him either. 

"They are all fawning like peacocks around the yard hoping to catch the Kingslayer there," she had complained to her father that night while they took their supper in their assigned rooms. "I don't know what they expect will happen if they catch his eye, an oathbreaker like that would never keep his vows to them more than he did his King."

Selwyn had looked at her seriously. "Be careful what names you use referring to people, my child. We're not in Tarth, the walls have eyes and ears in court, and the Queen doesn't take kindly to people insulting her brother for ending the reign of the Mad King."

Brienne had flushed, chastised. "I'm sorry father, I won't do anything to bring you shame."

Except she had done. Of course she had. Not one day after that Jaime Lannister had appeared in the yard while Brienne was there training with one of the dummies, the only training she was allowed. She had learned to ignore the insults, it was the only defence she had, and hearing someone defend her, even in that small manner, had made her heart beat faster. 

Then she had seen him; he wasn't difficult to recognize when he was wearing a fine crimson doublet with a golden lion embroidered on the chest, his hair as golden as the thread and falling in soft curls to his shoulders. He was as beautiful as his sister, with sharp features and deep green eyes, and almost as tall as Brienne. She had managed to stop herself from calling him Kingslayer to his face, but just barely; he had read it on her lips and she had seen the anger in his eyes. 

Brienne was ashamed at how rude she'd been, especially because she had promised her father. He hadn't been much better, though, insulting and arrogant, forcing her to fight for his own amusement. 

_But Seven, he could fight._

Brienne had never crossed swords with someone like that, with his mastery of the fight and his grace and speed. Their swords kissed then sprang apart, upswing, overhand, they circled each other with the song of steel clashing, the dancing of their swords moving against each other. He was magnificent, and with the blood up from a good fight, his mocking smile had faded replaced by a real one, sharp on his mouth and more beautiful than any she had ever seen. He moved like the lion of his sigil, a predator circling his prey ready to pounce, it was all she could do to keep his claws and teeth away from her exposed neck. 

She hadn't stood a chance, not against him, but she had felt alive like she had not done before, her own mouth curled on a smile, her blood rushing through her veins. After the first minutes, they hadn't exchanged any words, the fight too involved to waste any effort on anything as superfluous as talking. He had made her yield, of course he had, but Brienne had not felt like she'd lost. Not to him. 

Shockingly, he hadn't mocked her for her loss after the words they had exchanged. "You're not bad, _for a woman_," he had said once he had her on her knees, his sword levelled on her throat.

Brienne had swallowed harshly and stared at him, defiant, waiting for the insults. This was when the men usually called her a big beast of a woman, and Jaime had already insulted her before. Instead, he had surprised her extending his hand to help her up. Brienne had been too shocked to do anything but look at him, and Jaime had pursed his lips and withdrawn his hand, turning his back on Brienne to leave the yard. 

Why she had gone back the next day she couldn't tell. Why had he was also a mystery. But they both had, and they had fought again. Brienne had felt the same exhilaration as the day before and had also gone back the day after. And the next. 

They barely spoke, and when they did there were barbs in their words to remind her they were not friends. She didn't know what they were.

"Stop grimacing before you lung," Jaime had said one day after blocking her attack. "It gives you away and doesn't make you prettier."

She had attacked harder and ended disarmed and on the ground for her troubles. 

"You're always scowling, you have no sense of humour," he had remarked another time after they had finished, both of them breathing harshly, their faces flushed and sheened in sweat. It was unfair how it made her look uglier while he just glowed. Brienne had seen one of the ladies from the court observing them from the side, and had frowned at their snickers. "You need to learn to laugh at yourself or other people will do it for you." 

"They don't need more reason than my face, my Lord, same as you. If you'll excuse me." She had left him in the yard, ignoring the way he had called after her and biting her lip to hide the hurt his words had caused.

She knew it couldn't last, whatever joke Jaime was playing at her expense was due to become tedious sooner or later, but while it lasted Brienne could test her mettle against the best swordsman in the Seven Kingdoms, and learn from him, because no matter how insulting and irritating he was, he was teaching her and correcting her, and every day Brienne lasted a bit more and got closer to actually disarm him.

That was all she dared dream about, disarming Jaime during one of their fights, seeing his surprise and maybe approval at her growth.

Except he was obviously done with her now. 

She looked around the yard on last time, the sun finally set on the horizon, and admitted to herself that Jaime was not coming for the second time. She had convinced herself the day before he had just been detained by his duties, but it was clear now he didn't want to. She swallowed her disappointment and ignored the way her heart fell. She didn't care that Jaime was tired of her; he was a good sparring partner and nothing else, and she didn't enjoy spending time with him and looking at him. He was the Golden Lion, after all, and Brienne of Tarth was so below his station he would have never seen her had she not been so freakish.

She went back to her rooms and changed out of her dirty clothes, and then joined her father for supper. 

"I haven't seen you around the court these past few days, my child," Selwin asked, his voice an eyes filled with concern. "You haven't been hiding in your rooms, have you?"

"No father, I have spent some time in the yard," she said, hoping she could keep it as vague as possible. 

He looked interested at that. Lord Selwyn had never belittled Brienne for her interest in fighting and was proud to have such a strong child, willful as she was, and was convinced there was a man out there who would love her as much as he did the way she was. "Have you met any Knight there? Crossed sword with any of them?" Her face gave her away quicker than any lie she could think of, a blotchy blush heating up her cheeks and her father laughed, delighted. "Oh, tell me, child, who's this man who makes you blush like this?"

"It's not like that, father," she protested, her voice breaking. She could see him thinking about betrothals and weddings, could tell his hands itched already to hold all the grandchildren he was imagining. She looked down at her plate not to see the disappointment on his face. "I've been sparring with Lord Jaime Lannister," she admitted, there was no point in lying.

She looked up to see the shock on his face. "Please tell me you haven't insulted him," he said, dismayed. Her father really knew her.

"No more than he does me." It was the truth, even if lately the barbs were less pointed and his words more playful, they were still insults.

Selwyn closed his eyes and pressed his fingers over the bridge of his nose, a silent gesture she recognized from when he was asking the Gods for strength. "It can't be that bad if you haven't been summoned by the Queen, can it?"

They didn't speak of it anymore that night, and when Brienne retired she didn't think about Jaime. Didn't wonder whether he had a reason not to come to spar with her or if he was not coming back because the joke was really over. She had almost convinced herself of this, and was ignoring how sick that idea made her, when there was a knock on her door the next morning. She looked up from the letter she was writing to Ser Godwin to see a servant wearing the royal colours. 

"Lady Brienne," the servant said, looking at her with curiosity. "Queen Cersei requests your company in her solar for luncheon."

…

Brienne put on a gown, as much as she hated them and made them feel uncomfortable, at her father's request. 

"You have already insulted the Hand and Uncle to the King, I know you prefer tunics but King's Landing is not Tarth. We have to try not to insult the Queen as well." Selwin had said. He had looked at her alarmed when the servant had delivered the message, the previous night's conversation at the forefront of their minds. 

She couldn't be in trouble with the Crown just for some unwise words she had exchanged with Jaime, not when he had also been rude and disrespectful and insulting. They had been meeting regularly after that and she had not repeated them. It would be too cowardly to do something like this. Even for the Kingslayer, not that Brienne had thought of him as such lately. It was the kind of thing that was rumoured Tywin would do, but it was also said Tywin's children were not so ruthless. 

Still, she couldn't help the way her palms sweated and her breath came short on her way to the Queen's solar. She barely paid any attention to the people she crossed paths with or looked at the lavish rooms she was entering and which she had not visited before, the servant leading her into the lion's den.

Queen Cersei was as stunningly beautiful as she remembered from her audience; she had her daughter asleep in her arms and the King was sitting next to her, pouting while he played with some food on his plate.

"_No Joff_," she said, a stern look on her face, "if you wake Myrcella I'm going to call the wet nurse and you won't play with her later either." 

The boy crossed his arms mutinously. "_I am the King!_" He was a beautiful boy, with the same golden curls of her mother and striking dark brown eyes, his features clearly Lannister but a bit softer than Cersei's.

"You are, and a good King eats his food so he has the energy to be a good ruler," she said, and Brienne had to bite her lips to keep a smile hidden. "Or the King can go for a nap and won't play with his sister." Cersei turned to her then. "Lady Brienne, thank you for joining me today."

"Your Grace, it's an honour," Brienne said, attempting a curtsey which felt clumsy and forced to her. Cersei's brows lifted slightly, but she didn't mock her as her brother had done. "Thank you for having me."

"Please, take a seat," she gestured to the chair in front of her at the table and Brienne approached slowly, trying to appear smaller and not knock anything. "Your father is the Evenstar, and I've heard your island is very beautiful. How are you liking King's Landing? You've been just presented to the court, have you not?"

Brienne opened her mouth and closed it again, completely baffled that the Queen had invited her to her solar to make small talk. She pinched her arm discreetly, and the sharp pain assured her that yes, she was awake. "Yes, your Grace," she finally croaked, flushing under the scrutiny. "It's beautiful."

The Queen was staring at her, from her unstyled hair and ugly face to the formless pink dress that washed her complexion and made her appear even paler and flatter on the chest, though if she disapproved she didn't say anything. Unlike her brother. "How are you finding the court, Brienne?"

"Ummm," She had never felt more awkward than right now, trying to make polite conversation with the Queen while the King was mashing his food violently with his fork. Cersei turned to follow her look and pursed her lips. 

"Fine, to bed with you, Joff; you're clearly too tired and have decided to behave like a baby, and babies are not Kings." She gestured to one of the servants who approached and removed the plate. Another two women approached them, one deftly picking up the sleeping baby from the Queen's arms and the other manoeuvring a now distraught and screaming Joffrey out of the room with the practice and patience of one who'd done that many times before. 

Cersei smiled at her once they were alone and Joffrey's cries had faded, Brienne was struck again with how different they were. The Queen was considered the most beautiful woman in Westeros where Brienne was the ugliest, they were as different as two people could be; where Brienne was big and brutish the Queen was petite and delicate, Brienne's features were coarse and too big for her face, Cersei's were sharp and defined, her body feminine where Brienne was mannish. It was unfair the Seven had given all the gifts to one and none to the other. 

"He might be King, but he's still a child," she said with an indulgent smile. "We will be able to talk now." Two servants brought some plates of food and a carafe of wine and served goblets to them. Brienne grabbed the one in front of her and took a fortifying drink of the wine, a nice dornish red that warmed her up slightly. "I've asked around and heard you're not enjoying the court." Brienne looked alarmed, but before she could deny it Cersei continued. "I don't blame you, it's full of lickspittles and vipers who would sell their grandmothers to get their hands on the Lannister gold, and you having caught my brother's eye would make you a prime target for them."

For a moment Brienne wondered whether one of them was hallucinating, and which one would be; she hadn't caught Jaime's eye, not in the way she implied. She was a curiosity to him, a woman with a sword who knew how to use it. "It's not like that, your Grace," she protested, feeling her face redden.

Cersei sighed. "Of course it is, even if you can't see it yet." She took a dainty sip of her glass and Brienne took a big gulp of hers, surprised to find it empty. She looked down at her food while one of the servants refilled the wine, rich meats that smelled delicious and yet her stomach rebelled at the idea of eating them. She drank instead. "I have to admit you're not what I would have chosen from him but I know my brother better than anyone, and I despaired that he would ever find a woman he wanted until he came to me and told me about you, so I'm not going to complain. I'm not Tywin, I wasn't going to sell him into marriage to advance our family. I'm already Queen, and I know what's to be married off for power, I wouldn't do that to my brother."

Brienne looked at Cersei and then at her empty goblet and wondered whether she was drunk already. She had never been one for drinking, and it got to her head quickly. It had to be that because she could understand the separate words Cersei was uttering, and yet the things she was saying were so ridiculous she might have been speaking Dothraki for all the sense she was making to Brienne. "Your Grace, it's really not like that. He was bored and I was free for a spar." She finally found her voice, tremulous as it was.

"He came to me and told me about you," Cersei said and Brienne swallowed her protest. This had to be part of the joke, then. Even queens had to get bored occasionally. "I love my brother, but he can be a bit dense sometimes, especially regarding feelings. I need to know if he's given you offence grave enough you won't forgive him. He might have been bored that first day, but Jaime rarely spars twice with someone and even more rarely apologizes even if he's in the wrong. He's surely compounded the original insult with some more by now."

"Your Grace, I also behaved rudely towards him."

Cersei smiled. "_I know_, it gives me hope you have some spine, you're going to need it in the court." Brienne felt herself straightening at her words and considered them. Jaime had insulted her, yes, but that wasn't unforgivable, she had done the same. Toying with her in this way, if that was what he was doing, was. "So tell me, Brienne, I saw you waiting for him in the yard and he didn't realize what that means but I do. You like him, don't you? My sweet brother is an excellent swordsman and almost as beautiful as I am, and he's very powerful. That would make most ladies in court endure any offence he gave them, but you're not like that, are you? You must like him very much; even when he has offended you, you were waiting for him to come back the way he's been doing every day since he met you. You needn't do so if you hated the time you spent with him."

Brienne felt her blood freezing in her veins, feeling herself exposed under her shrewd look. She regretted the second glass of wine now and how it was making her head swim, her wits leaving her. She needed to lie, say something to preserve her dignity and endure this luncheon until she could go back to her rooms. It would only delay the inevitable, though. "_I do_," she said instead, barely a whisper, and waited for her humiliation. "I'm sorry."

This was when Jaime probably would appear from behind a tapestry or hidden door, having listened to their conversation. Or when Cersei would invite people who were hiding in to laugh at Brienne. Maybe she would just laugh at her and tell her how someone like Brienne didn't deserve her brother. 

"This won't do," Cersei said, and her voice was firm but she had not laughed. Brienne dared look up and saw Cersei staring sternly at her, lips pursed. There was no disgust or mockery in her voice and expression, though, and nobody had come in to make her the butt of the joke. "If you're going to be the next Lady Lannister you don't apologize, nor for this, and you don't let people intimidate you. _You're a Lion, you have to have pride_."

"_What_?" Brienne croaked, but Cersei ignored her and continued with her tirade as if she had been wanting to say this since the moment Brienne entered the solar. 

"Also, that dress will have to go, pink is not a good colour on you. Blue would probably make those incredible eyes of yours pop, and we need to accentuate the one good thing you have, also, Lannisters wear crimson, so get used to it. We'll need to get the seamstresses and get a few gowns done, and I think Jaime said you favoured tunics, the Dornish style will probably suit you better, Ellaria can help us with that. There is time, Jaime will need to court you properly before we can set a date for the wedding, and we'll need your father's approval, of course, though I doubt the Evenstar would refuse to join Tarth with the Westerlands and the Crown." Brienne was beginning to feel a bit faint. She had definitely drunk too much, had Cersei said wedding? "Are you alright, Brienne? You're looking a bit pale."

…

Brienne arrived at her rooms unsteady on her feet. She wanted to blame the wine, she had probably imbibed more than she should, but at some point in the conversation, she had just given up and refilled her goblet. Maybe the Queen's words would make sense that way. 

Her father was waiting for her in their rooms, sitting at their writing table but clearing not in the middle of his correspondence, his face the picture of concern when she entered. 

Brienne could guess at what picture she made, unsteady on her feet, wide-eyed and with her eternal blush, the one the Queen--just call me Cersei, we're going to be family after all--had said gave away her affections. 

"My child, are you ok? What did the Queen want with you?"

Brienne opened and closed her mouth several times, trying to order her thoughts and words and still, they sounded implausible even when she was the one speaking them. 

"Father, I think I got betrothed to Lord Jaime."

...


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was supposed to be finishing the chapter of If They Be Worthy, but apparently my brain had other ideas and was very impatient to see Jaime's reaction.

Cersei opened her eyes to the soft light of dawn entering through the window, she sighed and stretched on the bed, feeling the press of her body against the hard planes of Oberyn's next to her on the bed. She turned her head and saw him, already awake and staring at her with dark, heated eyes. Cersei smiled and turned fully to him, angling her body so her naked breasts brushed against his chest and the jut of her hip pressed against his cock. Oberyn smiled and bent down for a kiss which robbed Cersei of breath. She saw a hand appear from behind Oberyn's body, sharp nails raking against his chest and provoking a shudder, and Ellaria's tousled head lifted and stared at her from over his shoulder.

"Didn't we wear you out last night, your Grace?" she asked her voice a low rasp that did funny things to Cersei's stomach.

She pressed languidly against the bed and felt the soreness of a night well spent, her hands moving down her chest and stomach. "Not so much you can't do it again," she said with a smile, spreading her thighs for Ellaria to crawl between them while Oberyn kept kissing her. 

Later, when the sun had finished climbing up the sky and all three of them were washed and, regrettably, clothed, Cersei wrote a small missive and sent it with a servant. 

"I will see you in the council," she said pushing Oberyn to the door. She turned to Ellaria, "will you help me with a little project later?"

"Of course, my love." She turned when the door opened and Jaime came in, a look of impatience on his face. "I'll come to find you after the council."

Ellaria left and Cersei went to the small table where the servants had laid food for them to break their fast. She pointed at the empty chair in front of her and Jaime sighed and plopped down on it, his lips pursed in a pout that looked remarkably like Joffrey's. Cersei felt a spark of mischief and, as slowly as she could, buttered some bread and took a small bite chewing thoroughly while Jaime's expression turned more and more impatient. She was halfway through her toast when he could contain himself no longer. 

"_Well_?" Jaime finally snapped, grabbing a cup of hot tea and completely ignoring the food.

"Well, what?" She asked innocently, she was enjoying this so much after the previous day's conversation with Brienne. She still couldn't understand what Jaime saw in her, not only she was ugly she was also too shy, it didn't match with the woman her brother had described. Cersei was going to need all her tricks to just teach her to survive in court. 

She had meant what she said, though. If that was who her brother had chosen, then she would see them happily together. 

"Did you speak to her? Can I seek Lady Brienne today? I stayed away yesterday as you said." And he was eager to get back to her as if he hadn't seen her in a year instead of a day. 

"Yes I did, and I've summoned her father today, though it's more a formality than anything. The Evenstar is not going to oppose this marriage." She smiled at her brother, waiting for him to thank her for doing his job for him. 

Jaime didn't look like he was going to thank her for anything. He looked like he had just been smacked in the face with a shield. "Marriage?" He all but shrieked. "_Marriage_?"

Cersei frowned at him. That was a bit of an overreaction. "Well yes, Tarth is not one of the mayor houses and hers is not exactly a face that will spark wars--"

"_Don't insult her_," Jaime warned her, probably without realising he was doing it. Cersei breathed relieved. She hadn't misinterpreted her brother's intentions, he just hadn't noticed yet where they were headed. 

"She's a highborn lady, unfortunate-looking as she is."

"I know that! But I never said anything about marriage!"

Cersei dropped the remainder of her toast on her plate, fixing her brother with the same look she used on Joffrey when he refused to eat. "You asked me for help to court her," she said slowly.

"Yes, but--"

"What did you intend to do with her after you won her affections?" Cersei asked, beginning to be irritated with her brother. "Dishonour and leave her?"

"Of course not!"

"Then, you're going to marry her. I don't see what the problem is." She really didn't and didn't have time for this now. The Evenstar would be coming soon and she still had to get ready for the council. "I've only done it faster."

"Did you ask her or did you just assumed she wanted it and announced it to her? Did you let her get a word in?" He asked, eyes narrowed as if this was her fault. "What if she doesn't want it? Could she have said no the Queen?"

"Of course she wants it, Jaime. You're a Lannister, she's from a minor house and not a beauty, where is she going to get a better offer than this? Maybe you shouldn't have insulted her so much, but she will forgive you. It will be faster if you apologize, of course."

"_Fine_. I'll go look for my betrothed and apologize _for subjecting her to you_. I should have asked Tyrion for advice, at least he wouldn't have bullied Lady Brienne into marrying me." Jaime finished his tea and dropped the cup on the table, standing up with a sigh. "If she kills me during our wedding night, it will be your fault," he said, stomping to the door like the child he was sometimes. 

"Make sure to bed her first, so neither of you dies untouched," she snapped at the closing door, then she turned to finish breaking her fast. She had to wait for the Evenstar 

…

Selwyn Tarth was nothing like Cersei had expected. 

He was as tall and broad as his daughter and had the same bright blue eyes, but that was where the resemblance ended. Selwyn Tarth had a tanned and lined face topped with snowy white hair and a lush white beard, laugh lines bracketing his mouth and crows feet marking his age. He was wearing his house colours, an azure doublet with pink accents and embroidered starbursts, finely tailored to show his station. Tarth was an old house, albeit not an important one, and they were well respected. Selwyn was a very handsome man; if he had been ten years younger and she didn't have Oberyn and Ellaria, Cersei might have been tempted to seduce him. 

He bowed gracefully and looked at Cersei in the eye. "Your Grace," he said, his voice much gentler than she had expected. She had always thought all fathers sounded as stern as Tywin had. "You sent for me?"

"Lord Selwyn, thanks for coming," she sat on one of her sofas and he took the other one, his slightly arched brow the only indication he was surprised by the informal setting. "I wanted to discuss with you the details of the joining of House Tarh with House Lannister."

"So my daughter has really been betrothed to your brother," he replied, looking at her calmly. "I thought it was most unusual when Brienne came back to our rooms yesterday, _very intoxicated_, and told me she thought she had been betrothed to Lord Jaime. I put it down to the drink since it was the first I heard of their courting."

Was there some reproach in his voice? There might have been, and Cersei found herself genuinely smiling at the man. She liked people with backbone. "That was poorly done of my brother," she said, taking one of the goblets on the table. "But I'm afraid he wasn't aware he was courting your daughter either."

Selwyn took the other goblet though he didn't drink from it, looking warily at Cersei. "My Brienne said they were sparring together, _and just sparring_. She also mentioned they hadn't started their acquaintance on the best of terms." A very political way to say Jaime had been an ass to his daughter. "Imagine my surprise when she told me she's to be Lady Lannister."

Of course, even if Jaime had been openly courting her it would have been a surprise, considering their difference in both station and physical charms. He was better at hiding it than Brienne, but it was clear he also believed there was some hidden motive to it. Brienne had believed it was a jape at her expense, she had confessed in her inebriation, and it was clear that her father wanted to make sure that wasn't the case.

"Jaime has never been interested in any of the ladies in court, always seeking the company of Knights and spending his time sparring and practising in the yard." She leaned a bit forward and was pleasantly surprised when he did the same but his eyes never fell to her cleavage. "I must confess, I had begun to believe his proclivities lied elsewhere in spite of his protests. Of course, I didn't know it was the _literal sword_ the ladies lacked to entice my brother's attention." Cersei had always wanted to learn sword-fighting, but Tywin had been as unbendable in what a Lady could and couldn't do as he had been on everything else. This man had allowed his daughter a sword and let her wear breeches, and he was here facing a Queen for her. "I'll admit that I wouldn't have chosen your daughter if it had been my decision, but it wasn't. Jaime has chosen her."

"And is your brother sincere in his affections for my daughter?" Selwyn asked, his look assessing. 

Cersei stood up and Selwyn immediately scrambled to his feet like the gentleman he was. "Please follow me, Lord Selwyn," she said, not really answering his question. 

She led him to the King's solar, the one that overlooked the south training yard, the one usually deserted at this time of day because the King held court in the East gardens. She was sure her brother was going to be there and wasn't disappointed. Jaime was very predictable, and if he had found Lady Brienne to apologize as he'd said, he would have been itching for a fight afterwards. He had, after all, not spoken or clashed swords with her for two days. It must have felt like a lifetime to him.

They were, of course, already sparring. Whatever her brother had wanted to tell Brienne, he had already done and she must have forgiven him enough to face him again in a fight. Or maybe he had insulted her again and she was trying to kill him, sometimes it was difficult to tell with Jaime. The look on their faces made it obvious that Jaime's apology had, at least, bought him a bit of goodwill. They were both smiling, the clanging of their swords loud in the empty yard. 

"Come on, my Lady, you can do better than that," Jaime shouted when Brienne missed a block and got a hit for her troubles, stumbling to one knee. She narrowed her eyes and got back up, and the way she attacked made it very obvious that yes, she could definitely do better than that. 

"I will disarm you today, my Lord," she said. "_I will make you tell the truth_."

Jaime's smile was savage as he parried a low hit with one of his own, switching to an overhead pass next which was blocked by Brienne. The speed at which they were moving made it difficult to follow all their motions, but it was beautiful. Like this, with her face flushed and her incredible eyes shining and alive, Brienne almost looked pretty. "But I'm telling the truth, my Lady." He hit Brienne's sword to the side and stepped in place, his face close to her. "You can reject my suit; I'll speak to my sister if that's what you want." He took a step back when Brienne's sword came back within range. "And stop grimacing, you're making it too easy for me to beat you." 

Brienne's sword clattered to the ground and they stepped aside. She was glaring daggers at him and Jaime was smiling at her as if she was the best thing he'd ever seen. Selwyn's shoulders relaxed a fraction seeing the look and how Jaime waited for her to retrieve her sword before they began the next bout. 

The look on her brother's face wasn't the one of a man playing a joke on someone, for a moment Cersei was very jealous of that look. Then she realized she had actually seen it directed at her, just not on Jaime's face. She smiled. 

"Lord Jaime won't be averse to his Lady wife keeping up with her training, will he? He's not going to expect her to suddenly learn how to embroider and become a different person."

"I don't think he'd like a different person," Cersei said, looking at the yard where Jaime and Brienne were going at it with a passion she had never seen in a tourney or in their training yard. The way they circled each other, how their eyes never wavered and the strength of their hits was enough to tell even her, who had never swung a sword, that she was watching two astounding fighters almost evenly matched. Like this, with the twin smiles on their faces as they danced their deadly dance, she could see what her brother liked in Brienne. She wasn't at all meek with a sword in her hand. "He told me he wanted to train her, that she was close to beating him. Nobody is ever close to beating my brother."

Selwyn's lips ticked up on a smile. "He's won their sparring then. _Good_. Brienne swore she wouldn't marry a man who couldn't best her with a sword, and I'm afraid I allowed her that choice after a particularly terrible failed betrothal."

"Would that my father ever allowed me one," Cersei heard herself saying, and almost bit her tongue once she realized what she'd admitted to. She straightened her spine and stared at Selwyn in the eye, lest he dared do something like pity her. "I wouldn't be Queen then, though. And I like being Queen." 

There was no pity on his face, just a slight softness and some admiration. "I think, at this point, you don't need my approval for the betrothal, your Grace," Selwyn said, his words measured. "For what it's worth, I would be an idiot to refuse the Lannisters, and I would be a very cruel father to refuse someone who looks at my daughter like that and is not trying to change her, Brienne being who she is."

Cersei nodded with a matching smile. She didn't mind House Tarth joining with hers. "Shall we go back to my solar? We have many details to discuss," she asked, and Selwyn nodded and offered her his arm. Cersei smiled and linked it with her and let him led her away.

…

Cersei flopped down on her bed, sated and covered in sweat, her legs still trembling after the exertion of the past few minutes. She laid on her side and peppered Oberyn's chest with kisses, finally resting her head on his chest, Ellaria curled up against her back. 

"I have been thinking I want to remarry," she began, because ever since her chat with Brienne and later with Selwyn she had been thinking about little else. And recognizing the look on her brother's eye had cemented it for her. She was still young, and she wanted to have more children, at least one more, but she couldn't use her cousin Daven like before and have it out of wedlock. There were many things the people would allow a Queen, siring bastards was not one of them. 

Under her, Oberyn tensed, his body no longer soft and pliant. "Are you bored of us already, my love?" Ellaria said, the crescent marks her sharp nails were gouging on Cersei's shoulders belying the calmness of her tone.

Cersei snorted indelicately. "Don't be ridiculous, of course not."

"Then you want to marry some poor sod and keep us as your paramours, you Grace?" Oberyn said, a thin thread of something like anger in his voice. 

_Men_. It wasn't just Jaime who was dense in that sense, it seemed. "No, I want for the three of us to be together, and I want to have another child." She felt Ellaria relaxing, the press of her lips on her shoulder an apology. "Neither of us can marry Ellaria, but we can join Dorne and the Crown without your brother's machinations. You can have the wife your brother insists you find, and who will share everything with you and give you legitimate children. And I can have a husband that doesn't want to control me or my children, and won't mind if I occasionally find some paramour of my own."

Oberyn didn't say anything, just grabbed her face and kissed her passionately. 

"I guess that's a yes, we'll have to wait after my brother's wedding, though," Cersei said when she got her breathing back. She turned and kissed Ellaria with the same passion. "Would that I could marry you as well."

"You know," Oberyn said, tangling his fingers in her hair and extending his other hand to do the same to Ellaria. "My mother tried to secure a betrothal with you when we were children." Cersei knew the story, it always made her smile thinking of her father's reaction if he could see her now. "Your father took offence, you were destined for the prince."

"My father's dead, and I am Queen. I'll marry whoever I want."

...


	4. Chapter 4

Brienne woke up with a headache pounding against her temples and the feeling she had not slept at all. She moaned, pushing herself out of bed and dragging her uncooperative body to the parlour she shared with her father.

Selwyn was there, already dressed in his best finery, breaking his fast. He looked up at the noise Brienne made at the sight of food and gave her a slight smile. 

"Good morning my child," he said, his lips twitching up at her piteous moan. "You should eat something and drink plenty of water, it will help with your headache."

Brienne looked at him dubiously but her father had rarely steered her wrong so she was willing to try. She sat down and filled a goblet with the jar of water and downed it in a few gulps, feeling immediately more alive. She refilled it and piled her plate full of food, suddenly remembering she hadn't had any food at supper or during the luncheon the day before and she was famished. 

She remembered why she hadn't eaten mid-bite, and lifted her head from her plate to stare wide-eyed at her father. "Did it really happen?" She asked, her voice thready and panicky.

"Did you agree to marry Lord Jaime? I'm afraid so." He looked at her with sympathy. "I've been summoned by the Queen. Tell me now if you want me to oppose this match, and I will."

Brienne closed her eyes and dropped her head again, folding her arms on the table and resting it on them. When she spoke next, after a series of pitiful moans and groans, her voice was muffled. There was no sense in it, she had admitted to the queen that she liked Jaime. "No, as long as it's real." And not another joke at my expense, she didn't add. "I'm not likely to find a better prospect."

There were no better prospects than Jaime Lannister in the Seven Kingdoms in terms of family, power and beauty and they both knew it. There certainly weren't for the likes of Brienne of Tarth.

"Very well, my child," Selwyn said, running his fingers softly through her hair. "Finish your food, it will make you feel better."

Nothing short of disappearing down a hole would make her feel better, but there was no way she could say that to her father. She wolfed down her food while her father finished getting ready to leave, then went to her room to get dressed. She remembered agreeing to see Cersei, she would need to get used to calling her like that, in the afternoon to get fitted by a seamstress, but for now, she donned a tunic and breeches to go down to the yard to burn some of her frustration with a sword. 

Brienne went straight to the south training yard, not because that was where she usually trained with Jaime and she had missed him these past two days, but because it was the one empty at that time of day. He was already there, sitting on the ground with his back to a wall and a sword in his hand, very clearly waiting for her. 

"My Lady," he said with a smile, scrambling to his feet. 

Brienne felt her cheeks flush at the sight of him, her stomach clenching with nerves. "_My Lord_," she said with a pointed look. 

He gave her a rueful smile. "I owe you an apology my lady, or so I've been informed." So this was when the truth came out and he laughed at her. At least they were on their own, it was more courtesy than others she'd rather not think about had afforded her. "My sister went a bit overboard, I'm afraid." Brienne swallowed, determined not to show any reaction to that. She had known it couldn't be true, even with the Queen's involvement, even if they had involved her father in the joke. She had known. It shouldn't feel this bad to be proven right. "She was supposed to help me court you, not give you a royal decree to marry me."

Brienne stared at him for a moment until the words properly registered. "What?" She suddenly felt much like the day before, listening to words coming out of Cersei's mouth but not comprehending the meaning. They were definitely siblings. "It's not a joke?"

He looked surprised and offended for a moment."Of course not! Why would you think that?"

"Because, as you said, I'm as stubborn as I'm ugly," she said, a statement of a fact, though she could hear the bitterness in her tone. "Men like you don't court women like me unless it's to mock them."

"_Men like me_," he pursed his lips. "You'll find that there are no men like me, my lady, _only me_." She didn't know what to say to that, she was too confused. 

Ever since she met Jaime she didn't know what to say to him or what to think of him. He wasn't like she had expected him to be. The man from their first encounter, the arrogant and insulting Kingslayer, was only a mask he donned. She had seen glimpses of another man under that, a childish one who enjoyed their sparring time together and teased her, but she had to admit the hurtful edge of the first times was gone. It was that man she had allowed past her defences, and it was that man she was beginning to think was the real one. 

"I know you accepted the betrothal because of my sister," Jaime said after the silence between the two of them had turned uncomfortable. "But if you really don't care for this match, I'll speak to her."

"I'm not likely to refuse a match, am I? Much less one with Lord Lannister. I don't have suitors battering down my door to marry me." She thought for a moment of Ronnet Connington and his rose, of old man Wagstaff and his contempt for her desires. Jaime was a vast improvement as long as he didn't try to take her sword away from her, she ignored the part of her that said Jaime wasn't just an improvement, it was who she wanted. "Why would you want to marry _me,_ though?" she blurted out. "I don't understand. There are many beautiful women from better houses than Tarth in court."

Jaime scoffed. "They are all dull as dirt and in awe of my money, title, and face. They care nothing for me beyond that, and I care for none of them."

"Why me? I'm not pretty," she insisted. 

"You are to me," he said, and Brienne scowled at him. "And you haven't bored me since we met, the opposite actually."

There was no need to lie or flatter her; he had his reasons for wanting the marriage even if she couldn't understand them, and she had already accepted though she wasn't fully convinced it wasn't a trick. He didn't have to pretend with her. "You need not lie to me, you already have my consent and my father is speaking to your sister now."

She had expected him to either insist on his lie or get offended because she called him out, but Jaime just laughed. "I see I'm going to have a hard time courting you. Might be that my sister did me a favour in her highhandedness." He shook his head, amused. "You and I are not made for words. Let's dance, my lady, we speak better with our swords."

"Not when what comes from your lips are such falsehoods, but I'll get the truth out of you when I beat you." 

He smiled radiantly, and it made Brienne's heart skip a beat. "I'm looking forward to it."

…

Brienne was no less confused in the afternoon. 

She spent it with the queen and her friend, Ellaria Sand, a beautiful Dornish woman who stared at Brienne with dark and appreciative eyes. She looked at her, her eyes raking Brienne's body up and down and then turned to Cersei.

"I see what you mean now, Your Grace," she said, her voice deep and musical. Brienne expected a snide comment, some kind of inside joke mocking her appearance but it didn't come. "King's Landing fashion will do her no favours, but she has the height and the width." She turned to Brienne and grabbed her hand, pressing her fingertips against Brienne's, their callouses catching against each other. "You're a warrior." There was approval in her voice and Brienne found herself liking her very much. "Tunics better than dresses, then. At least better than the heavy and delicately embroidered things Your Grace wears. I think the Dornish style will suit you better."

Ellaria and Cersei then reclined on a couch sipping wine, their heads together in a very intimate fashion, while the seamstress took measurements and tried fabrics and listened to what they said. Brienne just followed instructions, feeling a bit like a doll, and moved her limbs in whatever posture the seamstress told her. 

When she was finished, Brienne tried to make her escape but Cersei stopped her. 

"We're not done, Brienne," she said in a slightly chiding tone that froze Brienne in her tracks. "We still have to do something with your hair and skin, your hands are too rough and you have too much hair where you should not and not enough on your head. We might be able to do something about your face with some powder and rouge to make you more appealing." 

Brienne flushed, mortified at her words. They were true, but no less hurtful for that. "I'm sorry Your Grace--"

Cersei tutted. "What have I told you about apologizing? You're a Lion, act like one!"

Brienne's head snapped up and stared at Cersei in the eye. "_I'm sorry, Your Grace_," she said again, her tone firmer. "But this is who I am, I'm not changing myself for your brother. _He chose an ugly woman, he'll marry an ugly woman_. I am grateful for the clothes and will wear them, but smoothing my callouses would only make it harder for me to wield my sword, and removing my hair sounds unpleasant and a futile effort since it will grow back. And I am not tarting myself up like a Street of Silk whore for your brother or anyone else."

Cersei was smiling at the end of her little tirade and so was Ellaria. "I like her," Ellaria said, perching her chin over Cersei's shoulder. "You sure we can't share her with your brother?" 

Brienne flushed deep red, aware of the implications and the rumours surrounding the queen and Oberyn and Ellaria. "Jaime doesn't share, and I have my hands full with you two," Cersei said darting a quick look at her, smiling, then turned back to Brienne. "Finally I get to see the woman that enticed my brother, instead of the mouse who didn't say more than five words to me."

"You didn't let me speak much," Brienne retorted, surprising herself and Cersei laughed. "Your Grace."

"I think you'll be a good Lady Lannister, after all."

...

Brienne had not known what to expect of Jaime's declaration that he was going to court her, especially because it was unnecessary. Courting came before the betrothal, not after.

Still, her only ideas of courting came from books, where gentle knights wooed beautiful ladies with pretty words and gallant deeds. She had to snort at that idea, Jaime was pretty but his words were not, he was blunt and arrogant and insulting. And his deeds--that was the other thing that bothered her. The deed he was most known for was the least honourable one, and though she couldn't reconcile the man she knew with the person who had done that, the fact was he had done it, and she couldn't help but wonder whether he'd keep an oath to her when he had not kept a sacred one to his King.

She didn't know how to breach the subject, though, or whether she should do it with him. 

"If it really bothers you, you need to ask him, my child," Selwyn said when she mentioned it to her father. "Marriage needs trust or it will be a miserable affair for both of you, it can survive and be bearable without love, but you _need_ trust."

She knew he was right and was determined to ask Jaime except she could not find the right moment.

They were now courting in earnest and it was the strangest thing that had happened to Brienne; it was nothing like she had read in her books.

The first day Jaime met her in the yard, Brienne was already wearing one of the Dornish style tunics Cersei had commissioned for her, with soft and silky trousers fluttering as she walked and a tunic in the same material clinched under her breast and tied around her neck, giving the illusion she had more breasts than her meagre offering. It was done in soft lavender and ochre, layered on top of each other and allowed her movements perfectly. She looked at herself and thought for the first time in her life that she looked good. 

She remembered Septa Roelle's words, the looking glass would tell her the truth. Well, the looking glass was telling her she should have gone to Dorne a long time ago.

"My Lady, I will have to thank my sister and Ellaria," he said, his eyes raking over every inch of Brienne's body. She had not thought the attire was revealing, and neither had her father when they broke their fast together, but the blatant appreciation in Jaime's eyes made her wonder and flush a deep red. "Shall we test how it holds up during a spar?"

It did hold perfectly well, not impeding her movements and even masking some of her footwork under the flowing folds of her trousers. She managed to surprise Jaime a couple of times changing the direction of her strokes by pivoting quickly, the turn of her foot hidden from his sight. He laughed at it, though he had been able to recover quickly enough to end up disarming her. By the time they were both panting with exertion, Jaime was grinning widely. 

"I might get some Dornish clothes myself if I want to remain undefeated," he said, teasingly and Brienne smiled at him. 

"I will defeat you anyway, my lord." She had made a vow to herself, she had decided she would get one truth out of him when she defeated him, and she would do it. "You still owe me one truth."

"I look forward to it."

It became their normal exchange every morning after their sparring session. They were getting longer and longer, Jaime having a harder time disarming her with each passing day but it might also be because he kept bringing masters at arms to teach her. 

The first day he appeared with the one who had refused to even have her in the yard when she had just arrived in King's Landing. The man had taken a look at Brienne and glared as if it was her fault he was there when she hadn't even known what Jaime was going to do. "My Lord Hand, that's a woman," he had said. 

"You have astonishing powers of observation," Jaime had replied dryly but with an edge in his voice. "Next you'll tell me that in her hand is a sword."

"Women can't fight, my lord."

Brienne had flushed, mortified. "I can assure you, this one can. Now, think of your next words carefully, because they might determine whether you find a post as a master at arms in the Seven Kingdoms again," Jaime asked in the same tone, but his eyes were hard. "Can you teach her?"

The man looked at Brienne with distaste, and she could tell he was thinking of saying yes now, and then ignoring her or teaching her nothing. "If it pleases my lord," he finally spat out.

"It does," he leaned back against one of the pillars. "It will also please me to watch you do it." Jaime smiled the least friendly smile Brienne had ever seen and crossed his arms over his chest, his eyes hard on the master. 

They worked together for two days and after that, there was another master at arms who had better sense and didn't question Jamie's orders. And another one after that. Brienne could feel the improvement in Jaime's looks and their sparring matches. How it was getting harder and harder for him to disarm her, how she was managing to surprise him with new moves.

Then there was the afternoon he took her to the Street of Steel, the hours spent bickering and discussing with the blacksmiths, who faltered at the beginning at seeing a woman at their forge requesting armour, but learned soon Lannister gold spent the same whether the product was intended for a man or a woman.

"Tarth's colours are pink and azure," she insisted during the visit to the second shop. "I will honour my house."

"Your house will be Lannister," he replied, though there was no bite to his voice, just a small smile curling in his mouth. He enjoyed it when she fought back, be it with swords in the yard or with words outside.

"Not before you cloak me." She was, as he already knew, very stubborn. "And you haven't yet."

He laughed at that, much to the blacksmith's puzzlement. "Two sets of armour then," Jaime finally requested. "One in the classic Lannister design, one in Tarth's." It was too much, but Jaime waived any protest she thought to make. "I'm courting you, remember? I'm supposed to give you extravagant gifts, or so my brother tells me."

"What else does your brother tell you, my lord?" She had, of course, heard of the Imp of Casterly Rock, who was supposed to be malformed and ugly like a demon, hidden away at the Rock. The way Jaime spoke about his brother was fond, his eyes and voice held nothing but love for him, though.

"That marrying a stubborn woman means I won't be bored ever again, in or out of the bedchambers," Jaime said, cheekily, laughing when she had glared at him, her face aflame. "I'm inclined to agree, I haven't been bored since I met you."

"I am stubborn enough to leave you here," she said and left him laughing with the blacksmith, though she couldn't help her smile as she did. Even when he insulted her these days, it was more banter than hurtful, and she was relaxing enough to give as good as she got, at least when they were alone together.

Then there were the traditional courting gifts. She had hated roses since that day with Ronnet Connington and was half afraid Jaime would try to give her one while at the same time she feared he didn't consider her feminine or soft enough for flowers, and all his courting gifts would be of hard steel. 

She needed not have feared, there were flowers because there could be no courting without them, at least according to the Queen, but they weren't roses. 

"My sister is right, blue is definitely your colour," Jaime said when he presented Brienne with a beautiful blue lily. Her heart had tripped all over itself, memories of the rose quickly suppressed, overwritten by the flower now in her hands and Jaime's smile. "Just don't tell her, she's already insufferable enough about this whole affair without admitting she was right."

Brienne had been floating in a cloud that day, and the following one when Jaime had presented her with a sapphire necklace, the gold filigree so delicate she had been afraid to touch it in case she broke it. 

"Please, stop giving me gifts," Brienne said, her face red from both pleasure and embarrassment. She still felt she wasn't worthy of those delicate and beautiful gifts, though she knew better than to voice it loudly after her father's sad and disappointed look when she had complained to him. "I already agreed to marry you."

"I am a Lannister," Jaime said, going around her and fastening the necklace in place around her throat, his fingertips brushing her pulse points and making her shiver, his breath raising goosebumps on her skin. "We court richly, as befit to our state," he used his most arrogant voice, but now instead of irritating Brienne made her want to smile. She was learning to differentiate Jaime from Lord Lannister and was always shocked when she could see past his masks and recognize the amusement there.

Brienne was wearing the sapphire necklace with the latest dress Cersei had presented to her, a blue one in the Dornish style again clinched below her breast and leaving her shoulders and part of her arms bare, a long flowing skirt embroidered with lions because the Lannisters liked to put their own stamp on everything in case anyone forgot about them for a minute. She had put it on at her father insistence to go down to the court, her least favourite part of the day. Cersei and her father had insisted she had to be seen by courtiers, and that she had to practice '_that spirit you show when you're fighting, because the court is also a fight even without swords,'_ according to Cersei. 

So far, Brienne still tried to avoid it and was glad when Jaime wanted to take her somewhere outside of the Red Keep instead of leaving her at the mercy of his sister and the courtiers. She was there, walking alone around the gardens after her father had been grabbed by a friend, still feeling uncomfortable and out of place and wishing a sword wouldn't _'ruin the line of the dress' _and that the council meeting finished soon so Jaime at least joined her, when she found herself surrounded by a group of ladies, all wearing friendly smiles on their faces that didn't reach their eyes.

"Lady Brienne of Tarth, we haven't been properly introduced, but I have heard so much about you I feel I already know you," one of them said, a petite brunette wearing a red dress with a low neckline which revealed her prominent bosom. "I am Lydia Cafferen of Fawnton, and these are Lady Toyle and Lady Horpe."

"Well met," Brienne said with a short curtsey. She had been taught her courtesies like every other lady. She looked around, but couldn't see any friendly faces. With a sigh, she resigned herself to whatever games Lady Lydia wanted to play. "Your house is from the Stormlands, my lady? I have never visited Fawnton, I'm afraid."

"It's beautiful, though not as much as your island I have heard. Is everyone from Tarth so unique?" she asked looking Brienne up and down.

"I haven't met everyone in Tarth, it's not so small an island," Brienne replied with her own smile. One couldn't spend so much time in the company of Lannisters without learning how to parry verbally. "Is everyone in Fawnton as nice as Lady Lydia?"

The ladies shared a look, and Lady Horpe, the tallest of the tree but also the plainest, took a step forward. "I had wanted to talk to you, Lady Brienne, you are wearing a most original gown. Is it the fashion in Tarth?"

"In Dorne, I believe," Brienne replied, not letting her smile falter.

"And those look like Lions on the skirt, a bold choice Lady Brienne. I wish I was so brave as you, I thought the symbol for your house were suns and stars," she had been rising her voice, calling the attention of the groups closer to them. 

Brienne didn't realize why until she felt a presence at her back and a hand at her waist. "They are," Jaime's voice came from right next to her ear. Brienne flushed, her entire body suffused with heat from his proximity and the embarrassment. "Lions are the symbol of mine."

"Of course, Lord Lannister," Lady Toyle said, curtseying. "We were just surprised Lady Brienne had chosen them for her daring dress."

"_She didn't, I did,_" Cersei said, approaching on Brienne's other side. The blood drained from the three ladies' faces, looking between the proprietary arm Jaime had on Brienne's waist to the cool and impassive expression on Cersei's face on her other side. "And it pleases me to see my future good-sister finally looking like a Lannister." She turned to Brienne then, dismissing the ladies as if they weren't even there. "We have been looking everywhere for you, we're having dinner with your father tonight in the King's solar." Cersei treaded her arm around Brienne's and led her away from the group, Jaime walking by their side.

Brienne had a moment of mortification but then the elation set, they had come to her rescue. Regardless if they had done it because insulting her now was an insult to the Lannister name, Jaime and Cersei had come to her rescue, something only her father had done before. She felt all the tension leaving her shoulders and straightened her spine. She felt her heart swell when she looked at Jaime, as beautiful and golden as always, smiling at her. 

This was real, this was happening and she needed to finally beat him so she could get his truth.

She was in love with her future husband, there was no use denying it anymore, but as her father had said what she needed was trust. 

...


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a bit more serious because there was o way to have that conversation without some seriousness, but to compensate I turned up the fluff

Jaime's sword clattered to the ground, the noise loud in the suddenly hushed yard. His eyes snapped up to meet Brienne's, who was staring at him with the same shock he was feeling clear in her beautiful eyes.

He smiled then, slow and happy, proud that she had finally disarmed him. It had only taken over a moon of training.

She really was magnificent. 

"Brienne," he said, breathless, forgoing the titles and courtesies. She still appeared to be stunned, not moving or doing anything, then she blinked slowly, something like fear taking over her features for a heartbeat before disappearing. 

"_I won_," she said, tentative, tasting the words in her mouth. 

"You did," he admitted, looking pointedly at his sword on the ground. "You've been saying you would for over a moon. And now I think I owe you something."

She had also been insisting she would get the truth from him. She had said that since the day after his meddling sister had all but forced her into their betrothal. For the first few days Jaime had wondered whether she really didn't care for him, she definitely didn't believe that he was serious in his intentions and she had been prickly and mistrustful, always looking for an insult in his words. But they had been courting for over a moon, and while the first days had been just more of their fights and bickering, things had improved much once Jaime had spoken to the Evenstar and got advice from him. 

"My child has suffered the cruelty of many men and women, and I'm afraid I have not always understood her," Selwyn had said one day after Cersei had invited him to sit on the council and Jaime had cornered him after. His sister appeared to have taken a liking to the man, seeking his company and opinion when she wasn't with her lovers. "She's convinced herself she's not a proper lady and she doesn't need to be one. Don't let her fool you, she might fight like a knight, but she has a maiden's heart."

"What you're saying is?" Jaime had asked, confused.

Selwyn had sighed, arching an eyebrow in a gesture that was pure Cersei. They might have been spending too much time together. "Training and armour are appreciated, even a sword if you want, but get her some flowers and jewellery, the things you'd gift a prettier lady."

"There's no prettier lady," Jaime had replied, almost a reflex. There wasn't, not for him.

Selwyn had laughed. "That's the spirit, boy. Don't get her roses." It had grated, being called boy, but Jaime had let it slide. No use antagonising his good father before it was unavoidable.

He'd given her flowers, a rare blue lily almost the same shade as her eyes, and had enjoyed seeing her astonished expression, the first time she had genuinely smiled at him without holding back. Since then Jaime had made it a point to give her a different flower every few days, never roses, and she always looked like she couldn't believe they were for her. She had the same expression when he gave her the sapphire necklace he had commissioned for her. She still told him every day she would get the truth from him when they fought, and Jaime was honestly looking forward to it, not just for her to be skilled enough to beat him, but also for her to fully believe in his affection.

She had appeared to do so after the day in court where Cersei and he had found some ladies trying to corner her. She had been holding her own much better than she would have a moon back, but Brienne still wasn't made to bandy words with courtiers, something his sister and he had been doing for years. It had been after that day Brienne had become more open, smiling more and even allowing some touches without startling, feeling more and more confident when it was the two them alone.

Cersei had laughed at him when he'd gone to her rooms one day grinning widely because he'd taken Brienne's hand. 

"Gods, you are worse than an unflowered maiden!" She had said when she got her breath back, still chuckling, her hair in complete disarray, a robe hastily thrown over her body when she came out of her bedchamber. There had been two dark heads in her bed, Jaime hadn't expected anything else. "Am I going to have to speak to Lady Brienne so at least one of you know what to do during the bedding?"

Jaime had glared at her, his face hot. "Not everyone is as easy as you, sweet sister."

She had only laughed harder. "Sweet brother, a Septa would look easy next to you. If you've finished entertaining me, I'm going back to bed and to my lovers." She had left him there, her musical laugh loud even through the closed door.

Jaime had not mentioned anything else to Cersei, but his time with Brienne made him believe she finally had feelings for him, the way she smiled at him and leaned closer when they were not sparring, and how she now sought his company when he didn't come looking for her.

"You do, I will get one truth from you," Brienne said, then looked down and took a deep breath as if steeling herself. She appeared almost afraid to ask and that made Jaime uneasy.

"You don't believe this is still an elaborate joke, do you?" Jaime blurted out when she hesitated, and she shook her head. "Then what truth would you have of me that makes so afraid?" he asked, confused by her skittish manner now she had won when she had previously stubbornly gone after her price. She had redoubled her efforts and training in the past sennight, and Jaime had believed that finally admitting to her own feelings, she was eager to get the truth of his out of his own mouth. "If you believe my feelings are sincere, then what else could it be?"

Jaime realized the moment the words were out of his mouth and froze. 

"_I need to know,_ if we're going to marry, I need to so I can trust you," she said, her voice so low Jaime had to strain to hear her. "Why did you kill Aerys?"

He looked into her eyes, so blue and calm, always calm. Now, though, they were filled with apprehension. He could understand it, he suddenly was feeling the same. "I--" he began, and then thought better of it and approached Brienne in two quick strides. He saw her contain a flinch like she had feared he was going to hit her and she had braced herself for it, instead, Jaime put his hands on her cheeks, just barely there, brushing his thumbs over her skin, and leaned up to press his mouth against hers. 

It was nothing like the only kiss he had shared with his sister. Then, Jaime had only thought it was slimy, now he felt her lips warm, soft, and slightly chapped against his. Brienne released a shocked exhalation but didn't push Jaime away, only parted her lips in surprise. Jaime took advantage of it, delving inside with his tongue to taste her. It didn't make him think of his father's hounds, nothing could be further from his mind, it was filled with the taste and feel of Brienne, her face under his palms and his mouth against his. She was clumsy but so was he, their lips pressing hard against each other, tongues exploring too eagerly, noses bumping. They pulled back then, and Brienne's eyes were as wide as he had ever seen them. 

Jaime felt like kissing her again, so he did. 

This time it was shorter and sweeter, just the press of their mouths, but enough for Jaime to smile as he pulled back. 

"Why?" Brienne asked him, breathless. 

"Because you asked that question."

…

They were sitting side by side in the Godswood. Jaime had insisted to go somewhere a lot more private than the courtyard for this conversation, and the Godswood in King's Landing was very rarely occupied. It was a beautiful place, with a canopy of red leaves and the soft green of the grass under it. 

"I was five and ten when I was appointed to the Kingsguard, I thought at the time it was a great honour but took me little time to realize it wasn't," he began, his eyes fixed firmly on the red leaves above and the few snatches of sky he could glimpse between them. He couldn't look at her while he told this tale or he would never get the words out. "I was a glorified babysitter and a hostage against my father, the King I had sworn myself to was a monster. I took to spending as much time as possible blanking out the world around me, going away inside my own mind, it was the only way to stand impassive while he raped his wife and killed anyone he believed was conspiring against him. By the end of his reign that was everyone who didn't agree with him."

He closed his eyes, the memories overwhelming. He hated thinking about those days, though they were never very far from his mind. He felt a tentative touch and opened his eyes to look at Brienne, who had just taken his hand in hers and was studiously looking everywhere but at him, her face aflame. Jaime squeezed her hand in thanks, feeling the worst of the memories recede.

"Then the rebellion happened and the Prince took everyone but me with him, I was a hostage after all. They didn't phrase it like that but it was obvious that was my real value while my brothers were out there fighting. I was on my own, guarding the King as best I could and watching him spiral into madness worse than I had ever seen. He had removed all competent and half-competent people from the council by that time and surrounded himself with pyromancers, who were only slightly saner than he was. They stockpiled wildfire under the entire city. Before leaving, Rhaegar told me change was coming. I held onto that hope, that we'd get a good king soon, but the news from the war were bad and my hope was waning. Rhaegar died and with him the last glimpse of sanity in Aerys." He focused on the feeling of Brienne's hand in his to keep the worst of those memories at bay, they had been terrible days, feeling helpless and conflicted. He had known Aerys needed to die, but Jaime had sworn an oath and he didn't take those lightly. "My father, seeing the way the wind was blowing, finally joined the rebellion. He came to our doors pretending to be his ally, but I knew Tywin and asked the King not to trust him. Twice I begged the King not to let my father in. Twice I was ignored. My father did what I knew he was going to do and sacked the city, Aerys then asked me to bring him my father's head." He heard a soft gasp by hi side, Brienne's hand so tight around his it was bordering on painful and it was the only thing grounding him on the present. "Then he turned to his pyromancer and ordered him to ignite the wildfire, he wanted to burn the entirety of King's Landing with everyone inside. He believed himself a dragon and dragons don't fear fire, he thought he'd survive. I killed the pyromancers first. Aerys tried to run when he saw the blood on my sword, I ran him through and slit his throat."

He felt a weight falling from his shoulders when he was finished, Brienne holding tightly onto his hand. He risked a look at her and saw her beautiful eyes shining with unshed tears and staring at him in horror. "Why did you never say anything? Why let the world believe the worst of you?

There wasn't any disbelief in her voice or expression, and Jaime wanted to kiss her again. "Ned Stark was the first person in the Throne room right after I killed the Mad King, and the way he looked at me--" it still angered him now remembering the judgement on Ned's face, the disgust in his expression. They had mended some bridged during Greyjoy's rebellion, even become something approaching friends, but that only made worse remembering Ned's contempt. "Aerys had murdered Ned's father and brother in the cruellest and most grotesque way I have ever seen, and yet Ned Stark looked at me as if I was the monster, judged me for the action that avenged his family. Aerys was not going to survive the day anyway, but the fact that it had been me was too much for their hypocritical hearts. What right did he have to judge me? If it hadn't been me, his dearest friend would have crushed Aerys's head with his hammer."

"They had not sworn an oath, Jaime!" She protested, and he felt his heart fall. 

"I had sworn other oaths as well! What about my oath to protect the innocents, Brienne?" he retorted heatedly, irritated by her response. "Which one was the more sacred? I was supposed to be a knight and I had already stood and let the innocent suffer to protect a monster who didn't deserve it. Do you know what I was told when I asked if we shouldn't be protecting the Queen, outside her door listening to her screams while he raped her?" Brienne shook her head, pale-faced. She had not released his hand, and that was what gave him hope she would understand. "They said we were not supposed to protect her from him."

Brienne looked unbearably sad then, whether for a woman she had never met or for him Jaime didn't know. "You did the right thing, I'm not saying you didn't," she said, and Jaime exhaled in relief. "Just that you should have told the truth. You acted as if you were proud of being an Oathbreaker just because you're a Lannister and could get away with it. That's what the Seven Kingdoms felt."

Jaime sighed, he knew she was right. "I thought since I couldn't keep my oath to protect the King, I would at least protect his secrets. I was young and arrogant, it didn't sit well with me that nobody cared why I had done what I did, that everyone believed I had no honour. So I acted the way people expected me to, repeated my father's words: '_Lions don't concern themselves with the opinion of sheep_' until they were a shield against their scorn." It had been so much easier then to be an arrogant fool, waiting for his father to ask, waiting for someone to care. When they hadn't, he had convinced himself he didn't either and had turned the Kingslayer they believed him to be into a shield. "I didn't know it then, my father had told Robert and Ned Stark he had taken care of things inside the keep, and everyone believed I killed the king under his orders because that was what Tywin's son would do. Anything to advance the Lannister family. What he had done was much, much worse. He'd set the Mountain loose inside to murder Rhaegar's family." He still couldn't think of Elia and the children without nausea. "And my father never cared to ask either, just cared that now I had killed a king I wasn't fit to wear the white cloak anymore. He had me stripped of it as soon as he sold my sister to Robert so I was ready to go back to the Rock, find a nice highborn lady, and start siring the next generation of pawns for his game." He could hear the bitterness in his voice, Jaime had never forgiven his father from getting him removed from the Kingsguard, for not caring that it painted him as the man without honour everyone believed him to be. Nobody had been removed from service before, and what Jaime considered shameful, Tywin didn't care as long as it gave him what he wanted.

She turned her astonishing eyes on him. "And Cersei? I understand why you kept it from everyone else, but aren't you two close? Didn't she ask? Why didn't you tell?"

He had known this question was coming, and he really didn't have an answer that didn't sound like they were no better than toddlers throwing a tantrum. He sighed. "You have to understand, Cersei and I are really close. Too close, sometimes. We think we know the other better than we know ourselves, our betrothal being a prime example of this." Brienne shot him an unimpressed look at that, she was not likely to forget how unorthodox it had all been. "I thought the moment my sister arrived in court she would come to me and ask me. I had missed my friend and confidante while we were apart, and knew she must have missed me as well. I waited for it, but she didn't come. And the more I waited for her, the angrier I became. Didn't she care about me? Had she believed Tywin's lies? I forgot Cersei's not a knight and is a lot more practical than that. Aerys needed to die because he was a monster and only his death would end the rebellion, I had done the right thing, and she didn't care it broke any oaths. It needed doing, I did it, as far as she knew I had done no wrong and if it was something that bothered me, I should tell her."

Brienne looked at him with incredulity painted on her face. "You can't be serious."

Jaime grimaced, chagrined. "I know, and it gets worse. We had a big fight about it right after her wedding. We had been arguing all the time since her arrival; I was in a bad mood thanks to the whispers and the weight of the secret, but I got it in my head she had to ask me because nobody else had. She was also in a bad mood, about to be married off for power to a man she didn't like, and couldn't understand why her brother was being an ass to her. It was one of our worst fights; in the end, I decided that I would not tell her until she asked, and she swore she never would."

"And here you are."

"Yes. We're both pretty stubborn and proud, so neither of us has relented yet."

"Childish, you mean, and foolish," she said under her breath, and blushed fiercely when Jaime laughed, the relief of finally letting go if this secret making him giddy. "I'm sorry--"

"You're right, we are. We can be foolish and childish, and you have agreed to become our family." He smiled widely at her. 

"Seven help me," Brienne said with an eye-roll, and Jaime couldn't help himself and kissed her again.

He decided then he would kiss her as much as he could, every day, just because he could.

…

Tyrion arrived in King's Landing a fortnight before the wedding, Tysha heavy with child for the third time, Joann and Gerys toddling after her like little ducklings. She looked beautiful, with rosy cheeks and dark curls and soft kind eyes. Tyrion looked ecstatic by her side, his eyes following her like he still couldn't believe she had chosen him, even after the years they had been married. 

"What will the people say when he appears with _that_ wife?" Cersei had argued with Jaime for days, refusing to send the invite to Tyrion once Jaime and Brienne had agreed on a date. It was one of the points of contention between the two of them, one of the few. Jaime adored Tyrion, Cersei loathed him. 

"What do we care about what people say? We're Lannisters, remember? And so are them."

"Just in name," Cersei had spat venomously, her pretty face twisted. "_They are nothing like us_."

"He's our brother and I want him here, with me," Jaime had said, voice serious and cold like he rarely was with her, losing his patience fast. "You will behave during his stay, for me if not because he's your family."

Cersei had scrunched her nose as if smelling something foul. "At least get him to come alone and not bring his brood along."

He had glared at her. "I want my entire family sharing this day with me, so if Tyrion and his family can't come, I'll take Brienne to Casterly Rock and we'll marry there." 

They had stared at each other challengingly for a few, tense moments. Cersei had relented then. "Fine. Have them all here, have an entire mummery if that makes you happy. Now go, I'm angry with you."

Jaime had been all too glad to obey, he had been angry with her by then. He had gone straight to find Brienne and kissed her until he had calmed down. It hadn't taken long once he had started, as if just her presence or her lips were magic.

"Brother!" Tyrion exclaimed, rushing into his arms when Jaime kneeled to greet him. It had been too long since his last visit to the Rock, when little Gerys was but a babe at Tysha's breast and Joann was still crawling all over the floor. "I can't believe you've finally met your match! I thought I'd never see the day."

Jaime laughed. "And I can't believe you got Tysha with child again the moment I left you alone!" He turned to embrace his good sister. "Why do you let this beast do this to you all the time?"

Tysha smiled, her cheeks dimpling and her eyes sparkling with mirth. "I try to keep him out of the bedchamber, but he always finds the tiniest crack to slip through," she said, and Tyrion chuckled. 

"One advantage of being my size." He looked around, searching. Cersei had not deigned to come down to greet him, still in one of her moods, but Tyrion was already used to her, he didn't even ask. There would be time later for them to rehash the same old argument."Where's my good sister? I want to see the beauty who has bewitched you."

Jaime also couldn't wait for them to meet, he had the feeling his brother was going to love Brienne. "Tonight we'll have dinner with her and the Evenstar in the King's solar, but first let's get you settled." He signalled to the servants, and soon they were all moving to the tower of the Hand, where he'd requested them to have a couple of rooms prepared.

They retired to their rooms to rest for a bit after the long trip from the Rock, and Jaime went to Cersei's rooms, a child in each hand. "Hello Joff," he said entering the rooms, where the boy was playing with his baby sister. Cersei, who was sitting in the recliner with Oberyn and Ellaria shot him a glare as soon as she saw the children. "Look who just arrived! Your cousins Joann and Gerys, you haven't met them yet have you?"

It was a risky play, but Jaime knew that as much as Cersei and Tyrion would never get along, there was still a chance to include his brother in family matters through the children. Cersei might be snappish and curt sometimes, but she wasn't cruel to children. Not since she had grown up. Joffrey was excited to have more children to play with, and in less than two minutes he had declared Joann his best friend after Myrcella, who was sitting with Gerys, both of them babbling at each other. 

"Don't you think I don't know what you're doing, sweet brother," Cersei said from the recliner, glaring heatedly at him. "I can see they are Lannister children, that doesn't mean I'll love them." Joann and Gerys had not inherited Tyrion's dwarfism, both of them looking very much like Joffrey with hair just a shade darker and eyes as green as theirs. 

"Of course not," Jaime admitted, tucking away a smile not to provoke her ire. They both knew he had won this one the moment Joffrey had embraced Joann. "I have to go check on my betrothed, but we'll dine tonight with Tyrion and Tysha in the King's solar. I think it's time you meet your good sister."

"Then it will be quite the family reunion," she said sweetly, turning to look at Oberyn who gave her a slight nod mirrored on her other side by Ellaria. "I'll bring mine too."

It wasn't until he was halfway to Brienne's room that Cersei's parting words finally registered and by then it was too late for him to turn back. Dinner was definitely going to be interesting.

Brienne was immediately charmed by Tysha and Tyrion, smiling at them as soon as Jaime had finished the introduction. "Please, just call me Brienne, we're going to be family," she said when Tysha had called her 'my lady', blushing fiercely.

"Please never make us stand next to each other," Tyrion said the moment he saw Brienne and Selwyn, his eyes huge on his face. He had just arrived with Tysha, who had greeted them warmly and only remarked how beautiful Brienne's dress was, blue enough to match her eyes. Jaime had loved her fiercely for the way it had made Brienne blush and smile. "Or make me stand between them, nobody would ever see me."

"And we all know you always need to be seen and heard, sweet brother," Cersei said, entering the room, her voice biting but not as cold as Jaime had expected. They all turned to look at her, and Jaime startled when he saw Gerys holding onto her hand while Joffrey and Joann walked in hand and hand right behind them, Myrcella cradled in Ellaria's arms, Oberyn walking next to them. "This little one," she continued, Jaime feared what she would say until he saw the way Cersei's eyes softened looking at him, "refused to let go of my hand at all until we got here. And those two," she looked back to where Joff was, "have been all but glued to each other, we had no option but to come as well." 

"We're honoured you could make it, Your Grace, and to finally meet you," she began, her voice soft and respectful. She turned to Joffrey and also curtseyed. "And Your Grace as well." She looked pointedly at Tyrion who bowed at Joffrey. "Thank you for having us, I hope my children have been well behaved."

"They have," Cersei said, releasing the small hand and giving the toddler a gentle push in his mother's direction. Gerys didn't like that at all, turning betrayed eyes on Cersei before he plopped down to the floor and started to scream. Tyrion took a step towards his children but Tysha grabbed his hand and held him back with a warning look which made Cersei's eyebrow arch up.

There was a moment of silence where everyone waited for Cersei to decide what she was going to do, then she sighed and bent down to pick up Gerys, cradling him in her arms as she walked towards Tysha and Tyrion. "Brother, good-sister, well met," she then turned to Brienne and Selwyn, her smile turning warmer. "Brienne, Selwyn may I introduce you to my betrothed, Prince Oberyn Martell, and our beloved Ellaria Sand, which you have already met."

There was a sudden flurry of congratulations and introductions, in the cacophony of voices and confusion of motion, Jaime approached Cersei. "Congratulations, sweet sister. Finally a husband you chose yourself," he leaned towards her and pressed his lips to her cheek. "Look at that, what would father say to see all Lannisters married for love?"

Cersei adjusted her grip on Gerys while she leaned forward, kissing his cheek in turn. "Don't think you've won, sweet brother," she whispered in his ear. "I still hate them."

Jaime smiled and said nothing, the way she had made sure nobody else could hear them said all.

...


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm afraid I lied, there is still one more chapter to come because I wanted to finish this on a different POV. It will be a short chapter though, and hopefully done in the next couple of days.   
I want to thank everyone who has commented and left kudos, it's been so much fun to write this and seeing the response it got was amazing! Thank you all.

Sometimes Cersei really hated both her brothers; after Jaime had left her with Tyrion's children she was unable to separate Joff from his cousins without causing an epic meltdown, something she actively tried to avoid, and Oberyn and Ellaria were no help, she had gravitated immediately towards little Gerys smiling down at him as the toddler babbled animatedly. 

"He's adorable," she said, picking him up and bouncing him in her arms. "Look at those green eyes, he's going to be a handsome fellow."

"Well, at least he doesn't resemble his mother, though in his case it would be an improvement over his father," Cersei said, turning to Oberyn, angry that she had been outmanoeuvred by Jaime. She was supposed to be the smarter of the two of them.

Ellaria frowned at her. "What do you have against your good sister? I thought you hadn't met her yet."

Cersei scoffed. "And I would not meet her if Jaime wasn't so pig-headed, the idiot Imp went and married the first gold-digging commoner who could stand his sight and touch, and I got saddled with her in my family." She realized her mistake the moment Oberyn tensed next to her, Ellaria's expression turning stony with fury. 

Ellaria very carefully deposited the toddler on the floor, where he continued happily ignoring everything around him, and then stalked towards the recliner again, each movement exuding menace. Cersei felt like prey for a moment, her gut clenching with a mixture of apprehension and arousal. 

"_Gold-digging commoner_," Ellaria enunciated slowly and clearly, scorn dripping from each word. She climbed atop Cersei, straddling her and bringing their faces close enough they were sharing breath but not really touching. "Did you know that's what the world calls me, has been calling me for years? Only I'm not quite a commoner, I'm a bastard, am I not? The commoner was my mother. Did you know the only reason Oberyn is free to marry you and doesn't belong fully to me, body and soul, one in the eyes of the Seven, is because I'm not highborn like you, _Your Grace_? The reason our children can't be Martell like yours will be and will always be looked down on, unlike their highborn siblings?"

"Ellaria--" she began, but Ellaria was having none of it.

"Is it all a lie? Don't I love our prince because he was born high and I was born low? Doesn't he love me? Don't _you_ love me? Or is it that you don't believe I love you?" She kissed Cersei then, not the playful kisses they shared at night, or the soft ones of their mornings, but a furious punishing one, more teeth than lips and too brief. Then she stood and left the room before Cersei had a chance to say anything.

Oberyn was standing up as well to follow her, Cersei wanted to scream at him. "I never understood the hatred you have for your brother," he said, looking at her with disappointment. "I would give my life to get Elia back if I could, and would die for Doran if it was asked of me, but you poured all your love in Jaime, too much sometimes, and left Tyrion in the cold."

"He killed our mother," she snapped, not used to her lovers questioning her this way. "He's a monster."

"He's just a person," Oberyn shook his head. "Women die in childbirth all the time, whether their children are born normal or not. If you were to die in childbirth with our future son, would you be happy with Joff and Myrcella treating him the way you treat your brother?"

He left her there, shaking with rage and grief and nowhere to direct them, staring sightlessly ahead until she felt a soft touch to her leg. When she looked down Gerys was holding onto her legs to keep himself upright, his big green eyes looking up at her, his mouth opened in a toothless grin. Cersei pursed her lips and for an instant felt tempted to push him away, instead, she picked him up and sat him on her knees where he immediately started babbling at her. 

"I hate when they're right," she told the toddler, who agreed with her emphatically and grabbed two handfuls of her hair, pulling at it. "I know. I will apologize, just give me a minute."

She played with the children for a while, sitting down on the floor with them, Myrcella crawling around her while Joff and Joann chased each other and hid around the room. She had rarely seen her son so happy and carefree, there weren't many children his age in court and he had not had the chance to make friends. She hated that Jaime had been right as well bringing his cousins to him.

After a while, she called a servant and dispatched a note to Oberyn and Ellaria. They took their time coming back like she knew they would, but they did and Cersei took them to her bedchamber and thoroughly apologized to Ellaria.

Afterwards, when they were catching their breaths, sweat cooling on their skin, Cersei pressed a kiss to her neck. "I never thought of you that way."

"You were the only one, then."

"I'm sorry." She didn't find apologizing easier than her brother, but sometimes she knew it was necessary. "Will you come to meet our family with me tonight?"

…

Dinner went considerably better than Cersei had imagined; she still felt no love for Tyrion but after Oberyn's words she felt most of the hatred had just drained away. There was just indifference, maybe some dislike because he was still ugly to look at but so was her new good sister and she had found, to her surprise, that she did like Brienne. Not as much as she liked her father, though. 

She had promised Ellaria to be civil and try to get to know Tysha, and she did, though she had nothing in common with her, neither upbringing nor interests, and the most feeling she could muster was some admiration for the way she controlled her children and husband. Tyrion was clearly smitten with her, and surprisingly she appeared to be with him. Brienne took to them immediately, charmed by Tysha and the children, the shyness she had displayed with Cersei nowhere to be found, much to her irritation. 

It seemed the only one in her family who preferred her was little Gerys, who had spent most of the time sitting on her lap.

"Don't be jealous, Your Grace," Selwyn laughed at her when she mentioned this, and she spluttered, offended by the mere suggestion. It had been a strange evening, merrier than she had expected one in the company of her brother. Maybe the wine was somehow to blame, it was in some measure for making her more candid than usual. "My child is very timid, and you are a beautiful and imposing woman. She's always going to be shy around you."

They were enjoying a glass of wine with Oberyn while Ellaria talked to Brienne and Tysha, probably to make a point after their earlier argument. The children had already been taken by the wet nurses to bed, leaving the adults to enjoy the end of the night. Jaime and Tyrion sat together on a recliner, a goblet of wine in their hands and gossiping like old wives as if they hadn't seen each other for years and years. 

Cersei glared at them, she had always hated when they did that, heads bent together and shutting out the rest of the world. It might be that Selwyn was right, she had never been good at sharing except with Jaime. Sharing Jaime had been unthinkable, once. Probably one of the reasons she had hated Tyrion so much, he had taken up so much of Jaime's love and attention.

She had her own family now, and the love of Oberyn and Ellaria. Jaime would always be her brother, her mirror, though he now had his own family to start. 

It was time for him to step up as Lord Lannister.

"You might be right, Selwyn. I am a bit jealous, but it's going to be strange not to have my brother with me," she said, drinking from her goblet and turning her attention back to her companions, who were looking at her with puzzled frowns. "I don't think we've been apart for longer than a couple of moons in years." 

"Am I going somewhere, sweet sister?" Jaime said, standing from the recliner and approaching her, Tyrion in tow. He had clearly heard her speaking, his expression as confused as that of her companions. 

"You're getting married," she said, suddenly feeling sad as if only now the full implications of it were registering. Her brother, her mirror, her other half, was going to belong to someone else, heart body and soul. He had always been hers, in all but body, always by her side. She was going to miss him. "I'm going to miss you."

She blinked slowly, looking down at her goblet. She might have had more wine than she thought if she was admitting these things.

"Married people can't be in court?" Tyrion said an edge of amusement in his voice. "That explains why I was never invited." 

"Don't be ridiculous." Cersei rolled her eyes at her brother, dismissing his comments. Seven but she didn't find him witty they way he believed he was. "Brienne hates the court, they'll be happier in Casterly Rock as Lord and Lady Lannister, it's time the Lord Paramount returns to the Westerlands and his duty."

"What about my duty as Hand of the King?" Jaime asked. Brienne was now by his side, Ellaria and Tysha next to her. Brienne put her arm around his shoulders in a comforting manner, unnecessary as it was. 

Jaime was amused, not upset. They had agreed when he took the pin it would be temporary. Jaime loathed politics, had only agreed to it because there were no other options and he had nothing better to do. 

Now things had changed, he had something better and a great prospect had appeared.

"Maybe it's time to appoint someone else," Cersei said with a shrug like it was the easiest thing in the world. 

Everyone was now looking at her with varying degrees of confusion. Everyone except for Jaime, who looked pointedly between her and Selwyn. She had no problem reading his expression and the question there and arched one eyebrow in response. Jaime chuckled, rolling his eyes and Cersei side-eyed Brienne in response.

They stared at each other, not speaking at all but saying everything they needed to say. Jaime wasn't shocked or disgusted, just terribly amused. She would love to see his conversation with Brienne when he explained everything.

"Oh, they're doing that silent communication thing," Tyrion said, his voice conveying exactly what he thought of that. Cersei smirked and Jaime shot her a reproachful look before resuming their previous argument. "It's so irritating when they do that."

They held one of their secret conversations for another full minute while Tyrion complained; Cersei might have enjoyed it too much when they were growing up in Casterly, the unique sense of connection to her brother that having a private language gave her. Excluding Tyrion was a bonus. 

Jaime finally sighed. "If that's what you want," he said in a much suffering tone.

"It's the best for all," Cersei said, taking another drink from her goblet. She was pleasantly buzzed and having Jaime going along with her plan so easily made her feel even better. Everyone else kept looking between the two of them, waiting. 

"Especially for you, sweet sister. You get to have it all. You're right, Brienne and I will be happier away from the court." Brienne was staring at him with a frown, and Jaime leaned towards her and brushed his lips over her cheek before he turned to her father. "Lord Selwyn, would you be willing to take my place as Hand of the King?"

…

The wedding was far less attended than Cersei would have wanted for a Lannister wedding, but Brienne had been unrelenting that she didn't need or want a big celebration, and Jaime had backed her up. 

"They just want to mock me, the same as they have wanted since the first time they saw me," she had said when Cersei had asked why was she so stubborn. Jaime was Lord Lannister and the Hand of the King, at least for now, he deserved a lavish celebration. "I don't want this day marred by their envy and their cruelty." 

It was true that since their marriage had been announced the ladies of the court had not insulted Brienne to her face, they had become far more vicious than ever when her back was turned. Once the wine started flowing during the reception there was no telling what could happen, and the bedding was something nobody was looking forward to, with the exception of Jaime. 

"You're getting married in a few moons, make your wedding the biggest the realm has seen until it's the King's turn," Jaime had said with a shrug. "I don't need the entire realm to attend my wedding, there are enough Lannisters coming from the Westerlands to fill the Sept of Baelor."

He was right about that; a sea of crimson had taken over the Sept of Baelor, a myriad of cousins wearing their house colours filling almost all the available space. Cersei watched as his brother stood in front of the High Septon, nervously fidgetting while they waited for his bride to arrive. He was also wearing the crimson garments of a Lannister, the cloak with the golden lion hanging from his shoulders. He turned when the door opened, a smile like the sun lighting up his face. 

She turned to look as Selwyn and Brienne entered the sept. There was a ripple of surprise then, and even some scattered titters. One glare from Jaime and aunt Genna, who had come early to meet them and was very much taken with Brienne, was enough to quiet them. Cersei didn't know what they had to laugh about; Brienne was still ugly but she finally carried herself like Lady Lannister ought to, with her head up and her back straight. She was wearing a blue dress Cersei had commissioned for her and the jewels Jaime had gifted her, and hanging from her shoulders she had the pink and azure cloak of Tarth. She looked radiant, the happiness on her face matched by the look on Jaime's as she approached him. Selwyn was also looking happy walking his daughter to the altar, both of them towering over everyone else in the room. 

He gave his daughter to Jaime and then retreated to stand next to Cersei. He wasn't wearing the pin of the Hand yet, but he'd accepted the position on the condition that Jaime and Brienne split their time between Casterly Rock and Tarth, as Brienne was the future Evenstar, at least until such time as travel wasn't advised for health reasons. Cersei could tell he was eager for grandchildren and would disappear from King's Landing as soon as he had them, she just needed to make sure to give him a reason to return, as long as Oberyn and Ellaria agreed with it.

The ceremony was lovely, the way these ceremonies tended to be. Cersei kept thinking that she would love to have both Ellaria and Oberyn with her when the time came, she would hold their hands the way Jaime was holding Brienne's, their fingers entwined while the Septon tied their hands together with the white ribbon, she would love to be able to look at her openly the way Jaime was looking at Brienne, like the sun and moon rose and set with her. She would love for their voices to mix like her brother's was doing with Brienne's, the cadence of the words matching until they were speaking with one voice, the words pledging their love echoing around the Sept. She would slip her own cloak around her shoulders, or help Oberyn clasp his, like he would have done years ago if he could. Or they could both walk out hand in hand wearing the same cloak, golden lions with the sun shining over them.

And she would love to be able to kiss her in public like they were doing, hands covering her cheeks and lips brushing over each other, softly at first and then harder, open-mouthed and deep and completely inappropriate for a holy place, exactly the way her brother was doing, much to the High Septon's displeasure. There were some catcalls and laughs form the family, and when they pulled apart Brienne was blushing red enough to match her cloak. 

Jaime wasn't blushing, not that he would for something like this, he wasn't even stepping further away than a couple of inches, staring into her eyes while the Septon finally pronounced them husband and wife, and then pounced again immediately completely uncaring that they were not alone and the Septon was spluttering by their side, the laughs and catcalls of their guests as they filed out becoming background noise. 

It looked like they had learned enough the bedding would not be a problem.

They were still kissing when Cersei took Selwyn's arm and let herself be escorted out of the Sept. 

…


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, not much plot in this one, but I wanted to do the bedding from the point of view of Brienne.  
thanks so much to all the people commenting and leaving kudos, I didn't know there were so many people who'd love a healthy (er) sibling relationship, but it's been a lot of fun to write it!

At the end of the day, Brienne could remember very little of her wedding ceremony and even less of the reception. 

She had dressed with the help of Tysha and one of the servants, the intricate and delicate blue dress made for her on her good-sister's orders had big golden lion on the bodice, proclaiming her a Lannister even if she had refused to wear red, and a scattering of moons and suns embroidered on the skirt. 

"Red doesn't look good on me," she had protested when they had commissioned the dress, the seamstress nodding silently by her side. "I'll leave the Sept with a crimson cloak, that should be enough."

She had learned by know that Cersei liked it when Brienne stood up to her and was more outspoken about things. Showing her pride as a lion, Cersei called it. Jaime had laughed at that when Brienne mentioned it and said it was her being her stubborn self, just not as terrified of Cersei as she had been before. Cersei could also be very stubborn, though she had given up on the red dresses she still marked Brienne with lions every chance she got. Brienne had learned to choose her battles and acquiesced easily on that.

She had felt if not beautiful, something approaching it when she entered the Sept on her father arms, his love and pride evident on his face. 

"I'm going to miss you, my child," he said right before they entered.

"So will I, father." She had given in and hugged him tightly, her eyes already stinging. 

Everything was a blur after that except Jaime's eyes on her and his hand entwined with hers, the white ribbon tying them together. She couldn't look anywhere but at him, if she did she was afraid she would wake up and all this would have been a dream. She repeated the words by rota, her hand tied to Jaime's, her brain filled with static until the Septon told them to kiss. Her world was reduced to Jaime's mouth on hers then, the known taste of him and the tingling feeling of arousal his kisses always elicited. She heard, distantly, laughs and catcalls, but ignored them, all the nervousness of the day made her daring enough to keep kissing her husband. 

_Her husband_, the word sent a thrill down her spine. She had never thought she would marry for love. She had assumed she'd end up giving in to one of her father's arranged betrothals when it was someone who wasn't terrible and wanted Tarth enough to put up with her. This was so much better; Jaime didn't need Tarth, Casterly Rock was a much bigger prize than her island, and he still wanted Brienne, he was so beautiful and still he desired her who was ugly. He was so much more than she had ever imagined.

They kissed for an eternity in the Sept, her face flaming at the idea of all those Lannisters watching them, but not embarrassed enough to stop until the Septon kicked them out. 

"This is the house of the Gods, my Lord," he said, and Brienne finally pushed Jaime away, breathless. They were both flushed, their lips slick and swollen and Jaime's eyes were shining with happiness and mischief. "Take your wife away, you can bed her honourably later."

They left the Sept and went to the Great Hall where the feast had already started without them. Everywhere she looked there was some relative of Jaime's wearing red, as if there were no other colours in the world if your name was Lannister. 

Brienne made a vow to herself to avoid the colour as much as possible right there and then. 

They sat at the High Table, Cersei and the King on Jaime's side, her father sitting next to Brienne, and they ate and drank and laughed, and Brienne couldn't remember one word of what was said that day, not the speech from Tyrion which had people laughing uproariously nor his father's one which had some of the ladies dabbing at the corners of their eyes. She knew she spoke to Genna Frey, and at some point, Jaime's friend Addam Marbrand had come to congratulate them. She had no memory of any of these things, had spent the entire feast focused on Jaime's hand on hers, the memory of his kisses and the anticipation for the bedding making her entire body tingle. 

She saw Cersei standing up at the same time her father did, the voices in the hall increasing in volume as the chant for the bedding began. Brienne swallowed, suddenly nervous, and Jaime squeezed her hand reassuringly before they were separated. 

Soon she was surrounded by the women, led by her new good sisters, who were steering her towards the bedroom they would be using for the night. "Don't worry, Brienne," Tysha said with a smile. "We're under strict orders not to damage the dress or expose you to the guests." 

On the other side of the Hall, the men had no such orders, and they were all laughing while they ripped Jaime's clothes from his body. For her, the ladies only removed the cloak and untied her dress, allowing her to take it off but keep her undergarments when they reached the door to the chambers. 

"You're lucky, Brienne, you will enjoy your bedding because your husband cares about you," Cersei said sounding a bit jealous before she closed the door, leaving Brienne alone with the butterflies in her stomach. She wondered whether she should remove the rest of her clothes or wait for Jaime and have him do it, the decision was taken out of her hands when the door opened again and a laughing Jaime was shoved inside, only his smallclothes remaining. 

Brienne's mouth dried at the sight; he was really perfect with miles of tan skin over perfectly defined muscles, his golden hair falling in soft curls over his shoulder and a face that would make a sculptor weep with envy. She still couldn't understand why he wanted her but had decided to stop questioning it and just enjoy it the first time he had kissed her. 

Jaime was also looking at her avidly, his eyes roaming over her entire body as he took the few steps separating them. 

"Finally," he said, leaning up and pressing his mouth to her, his hands holding her face so he could kiss her deeply. "I have been thinking of nothing but this since we left the Sept." Brienne laughed against his mouth, her hands moving over his torso and sides, touching all the warm and soft skin she could reach. "I have no idea what my brother said, or my cousin."

Brienne laughed. "That was my father, not your cousin."

He pressed his lips against her jaw and started depositing nipping kisses there. "Who cares, they were all talking too much. Gods, I want to touch you, why are you still dressed?"

He finished it with a bite that made her weak in the knees, a loud moan falling from her lips. She blushed when she heard giggles on the other side of the door, it was the tradition and there was nothing to be done but try to ignore they were there. They both pulled at her clothes, nothing of the care the ladies had shown for her dress, a loud rip marking the demise of her camisole, eager hands covering the exposed skin immediately. 

Jaime walked them backwards, his mouth still pressed against any patch of skin he could reach, until they fell on top of the bed in a tangle of limbs. They were both now only wearing their smallclothes, and Brienne could feel his hard cock pressed against her sex. She writhed, suddenly feeling very anxious. 

"_Jaime_," she said, and something in her tone made him stop what he was doing, one of his hands already reaching under the flimsy fabric covering her sex. "I've never done this, I don't know what I'm doing."

She'd only had Septa Roelle's instructions for reference most of her life, and they were all about duty and gritting her teeth and enduring her husband's attention so they could produce an heir. She had had a very embarrassing conversation with Cersei which included too many details and had left Brienne blushing for a whole day. "If he doesn't make you peak with his cock," Cersei had said, a goblet of wine in her hand, the two of them alone after one of the tests for her dress. "Have him pleasure you with his mouth, I assure you both of you will like it. And he's my twin, he's probably a natural."

Brienne had not known what to say to that but had felt her face about to combust. Her other good sister had not been much better. 

"I have no complaints about Tyrion," Tysha had confided in her when Brienne had mentioned being nervous about the bedding. "He was very attentive and gentle and has a very talented mouth. Must be a Lannister thing from what I've heard."

Jaime kissed her and brought her back to the present. "Neither have I," he shrugged, beyond embarrassment. Brienne blinked at him, surprised. He had told her repeatedly he wasn't interested in other women, and he never had been, but Brienne had always heard men didn't need to love a woman to want to fuck her. "We'll discover everything together."

Brienne grabbed his neck and pulled him down for a kiss, open-mouthed and wet, and circled his waist with her legs. He returned it avidly, grinding down, his cock pressing against her clothed sex. She let out a guttural moan at the feeling, one that was followed by excited whops and murmurs from outside. 

She stiffened at the reminder of their audience. 

"Ignore them," he said against her mouth. "Focus only on me or I'll get very jealous." She could do nothing else when he started kissing her neck, her entire body melting on the bed, the tingling between her legs intensifying. "I don't know what I'm doing," he said against her skin, his lips trailing down her chest now, his hand finally finding its way inside her smallclothes. "But Tyrion had a few pointers to give." He pressed his lips to her small breasts at the same time his fingers slid inside her folds, where she was wet and slippery. Brienne felt the shock of pleasure in her core, biting her lips to keep from shouting.

Jaime lifted his head from her breast to look at her with a curious expression, his fingers still rubbing against that place in her sex. "Oh, you do like that," he said, with a smile, bending down again and laving her other breast with attention. 

"Jaime, please," Brienne moaned, twinning her hands on his hair, not sure whether she wanted to push him away or closer. He took the decision off her hands by moving down, kissing her stomach as he descended, his thumb pressed against that place that made her tremble, two of his fingers sliding inside of her, she shouted and clamped her thighs together, her entire body taut. "Jaime, _stop_." She could barely recognise her own voice.

Jaime did, stilling over her and taking his hand away. Brienne missed it immediately and pushed up without realising, seeking more contact. "Did I hurt you?" Jaime asked, concern clear on his face. Brienne shook her head, still tingling all over, needing something. "What's wrong?"

"It all feels too much," she finally said, unsure of how to voice it. 

"Does it feel bad?" She shook her head. It wasn't bad, just too much, like she was about to fly out of her skin. "_Oh_," Jaime's concerned expression was replaced by a slow smile. "That's how it's supposed to feel, according to Tyrion." Brienne made a face at the name, she didn't want to think about any member of their family while Jaime was between her thighs. "Do you trust me?"

"Yes." She wouldn't have married him otherwise. 

"Then let me do this for you." He kissed her stomach again, his eyes never leaving her, his hands now drawing patterns on her inner thigh.

She pulled at his hair until he took the hint and crawled up her body, and she kissed him again. "I don't want it to be just about me. Tell me what to do for you."

He kissed her then until she was panting. "Just keep making those sounds." 

She could feel how hard he was against her leg, he crawled back down, kissing everything he could reach on the way until he was again between her thighs. Brienne was flushed and trembling, biting her lip nervously, she shot almost out of the bed when Jaime leaned and pressed his mouth against her cunt. Brienne wanted to hide under the bed, wanted to grab his hair and pull him up again, wanted to close her legs and ask him to douse the candles and fuck her in the dark, the way her Septa had told her it would be, no care for her pain or pleasure. Jaime had asked her to trust him, though, Brienne forced herself to do that and grabbed two fistfuls of the bedsheets in her hands, hanging for dear life while Jaime explored, there was no other word for it, her cunt with his tongue. 

It felt strange at first, not as intense as it had been when he was using his hand, but still pleasant. She sighed when he licked her, the feeling nice and arousing but nothing like before, his thumbs pressed against her thighs and holding her open. This was nice, pleasant but not too much, then Jaime sealed his lips around her nub and sucked and Brienne almost came off the bed with a scream, her entire body shaking. His hands moved, and again he had two fingers inside of her while he kept sucking, Brienne wanted to ask him to stop again, wanted to throw him off her, her entire face burning in embarrassment, mouth open and panting, but Jaime had asked her to trust him and she just twisted the sheets in her hand, panting as loud as if they had gone through a long bout of fighting, the feeling coiling tighter and tighter in her gut until something snapped in her, a release of the tension that left her lightheaded and boneless on the bed. 

"Jaime," she breathed when she could, all other words beyond her. "_Husband_."

"I like it, call me that again," he said, moving up her body to kiss her. His lips were already slick and they had an odd taste to them when he kissed her. She realize, mortified, that it was her own taste on his tongue. "I can't wait any longer, _wife_."

She nodded, the next she felt was him pushing into her and it felt weird, the stretch uncomfortable, but he was moving slowly and she was very relaxed after her peak. He kept kissing her, murmuring words against her mouth, there was some resistance and Brienne groaned at the sing of pain. Brienne twined her legs around his waist and encouraged him to keep going when it looked like he would stop

"I'm sorry, it's just a moment," he said, and she nodded and let herself be distracted by his kisses. 

She barely felt it when he started to move, the pain completely gone. They moved together, Brienne rising up to meet each stroke, the friction of their bodies almost pleasurable. Jaime was panting against her mouth, telling her how good she felt and how much he loved her, loved this. She knew by the way he kept increasing his pace he wasn't going to last, was not surprised when he stiffened against her and sighed against her lips.

He pulled out after a moment and flopped next to her on the bed. "Sorry," he said, turning his face to look at her. 

"What for?"

"That was too quick, and I didn't make it good for you." There was a light reddish tint to his face, Brienne smiled at him and kissed his cheek. 

"You did, before."

He returned the smile. "We'll get better, with practice." She blushed. "Lots and lots of practice."

There were some noises from outside, laughs getting farther from the door now the deed was done. For the people on the other side of the door, the party was ending but for them, it was only beginning.

They had, hopefully, many years to practice.

…

It felt strange to be back at the Sept of Baelor for another wedding so soon after hers, this time watching from the side. The Sept was fuller, not just Lannisters but half of Dorne was also in attendance, and the most important people of the court. Brienne stood on the first row with her father, who was finally wearing the Hand pin on his pink and azure doublet, and Ellaria Sand who held little Myrcella and kept the King by her side, declaring as loud as possible that she was also part of the royal family in every sense that mattered.

Brienne had given up understanding what was going on there the first time she had realized her father was involved, somehow. 

"There are many ways to love, my child," he had said when Brienne had asked him, wide-eyed and a bit scared for him. "For Jaime and you love and desire go together and can't be separated, you love each other and will probably love no other and without love, there is no desire for you." She had blushed dark red because he had been right, she had never wanted to kiss or lay with any man but Jaime and he felt the same way. With each other, though, they didn't seem to get enough, not now they had learned each other's bodies. "I love like you, my child, and will love no other but your mother, but I can feel desire without love. I am not yet dead and the Queen is a beautiful woman. She can't hurt me the same way I can't hurt her, we respect and desire each other but it's not love."

"But she's marrying Prince Oberyn," she had protested, she didn't want her father to meet the wrong end of the Prince's spear in a fit of jealousy. "And Ellaria." Somehow. Brienne wasn't entirely sure how they worked that one out, but it worked for them.

Her father had looked at her with fond amusement. "The prince is a Dornishman, he's very free with his affections and fully aware of everything his Queen does. And so is she. Why the other night Ellari--"

She had stopped him there, not wanting to listen to more, and gone straight to Jaime. "Don't try to understand it, you'll drive yourself mad," he had said, holding Brienne tightly to him. "My sister genuinely likes your father and he's smart enough to survive in this pit of vipers. There is nothing to fear."

She had felt better after that but still couldn't wait until it was time for them to leave the court and take their place in the Westerlands, away from the politics and manoeuvring of the capital. 

Surprisingly enough Tyrion and Tysha were to stay for a while since they were all to attend Cersei's wedding and it would be too late in her pregnancy for Tysha to travel after that. Also, King Joffrey refused to let Joann leave. It was going to be interesting when they finally separated the two boys but in the meantime, Tyrion had been given a place in the council much to his surprise. The relationship between Cersei and Tyrion was still strained, though the hostilities were more simple dislike than pure hatred, as apparently they had been before.

"This is friendly for them," Jaime had said when Brienne mentioned it after another of their family dinners where Cersei and Tyrion had been sniping at each other. "I don't know what they said to her, but I'm really happy Oberyn and Ellaria made her see sense, I have been trying our entire life."

Now, Tyrion and Tysha were in the Sept with the rest of the Lannister family, all of them a sea of red larger than the one in her own wedding. Cersei was wearing the most beautiful crimson gown Brienne had ever seen, the Lannister cloak hanging from her shoulders while the Martell cloak hung from Oberyn's. She would walk out of the Sept with that one on her shoulders, but Cersei would still be a Lannister regardless of which family she married in. 

"We are Lions," she had said to Brienne that morning, "and I will always be one. And so will you."

Brienne looked at her husband, also wearing crimson as he walked his sister to stand in front of the Septon. They were two mirror images, at least physically, beautiful and golden and proud. But Jaime was much warmer than Cersei, and the way he smiled at her when he walked back to take his place by her side made her heart beat faster. 

They had just one more day here and then they could leave for Casterly Rock. She couldn't wait.

She didn't mind being a Lannister as long as it was with him. 

...


End file.
